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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


Si 


REGIN  A 

OR  THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

BY 
HERMANN  SUDERMANN 


TRANSLATED  BT 
BEATRICE  ^MARSHALL 


NEW  YORK:  JOHN   LANE  COMPANY,  MCMXIII 
LONDON:  JOHN    LANE,  THE  BODLEY   HEAD 


COPYRIGHT,  1904,  BY 
JOHN  LANE  COMPANY 


PUBLISHERS  PRINTING  COMPANY,  MBW  YOEK 


College 
Library 


REGINA 

OR  THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 
CHAPTER  I 


PEACE  was  signed,  and  the  world,  which  for  so  long 
had  been  the  great  Corsican's  plaything,  came  to 
itself  again.  It  came  to  itself,  bruised  and  mangled, 
bleeding  from  a  thousand  wounds,  and  studded 
with  battle-fields  like  a  body  with  festering  sores. 
Yet,  in  the  rebound  from  bondage  to  freedom,  men 
did  not  realise  that  there  was  anything  very  pitiable 
in  their  condition.  The  ground  from  which  their 
wheat  sprang,  they  reflected,  would  bear  all  the 
richer  fruit  from  being  soaked  in  blood,  and  if 
bullets  and  bayonets  had  thinned  their  ranks,  there 
was  now  more  elbow-room  for  those  who  were  left. 
The  yawning  vacuums  in  the  seething  human 
caldron  gave  a  man  space  to  breathe  in.  One 
great  chorus  of  rejoicing  from  the  Rock  of  Gibraltar 
to  the  North  Cape  ascended  heavenwards.  Bells 
in  every  steeple  were  set  in  motion,  and  from  every 
altar  and  from  every  humble  hearth  arose  prayers 
of  thanksgiving.  Mourners  hid  their  diminished 

A     * 


2081-142 


2          THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

heads,  for  the  burst  of  victorious  song  drowned 
their  lamentations,  and  the  earth  absorbed  their 
tears  as  indifferently  as  it  had  sucked  in  the  blood 
of  their  fallen. 

In  glorious  May  weather  the  Peace  of  Paris  was 
concluded.  Lilies  bloomed  once  more  out  of  lakes 
of  blood,  and  from  the  obscurity  of  lumber-rooms 
the  blood-saturated  banner  of  the  fleur  de  lys  was 
dragged  forth  into  the  light  of  day.  The  Bourbons 
crept  from  their  hiding-places,  whither  they  had 
been  driven  by  fear  of  Robespierre's  knife.  They 
rubbed  their  eyes  and  forthwith  began  to  reign. 
They  had  forgotten  nothing  and  learnt  nothing, 
except  a  new  catchword  from  Talleyrand's  en  tout 
cos  vocabulary,  i.e.  Legitimacy.  The  rest  of  the 
world  was  too  busily  engaged  in  wreathing  laurels 
to  crown  the  conquerors,  and  filling  up  bumpers 
to  drink  their  health  in,  to  pay  any  attention  to  this 
farce  of  Bourbon  government.  All  eyes  were 
turned  in  a  fever  of  expectancy  towards  the  West, 
whence  were  to  come  the  conquering  heroes,  the 
laurel-crowned  warriors  who  had  been  willing  to 
sacrifice  their  lives  for  the  honour  of  wife  and  child, 
for  justice,  and  for  the  sacred  soil  of  their  father- 
land. They  had  been  under  the  fire  of  the  Corsican 
Demon,  the  oppressor  whom  they  in  their  turn  had 
hunted  and  run  to  earth,  till  at  last  he  lay  in 
shackles  at  their  feet. 

When  the  victors  began  the  homeward  march,  the 
German  oaks  were  bursting  into  leaf,  soon  to  be 
laughingly  plundered  of  their  young  green  foliage. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS          3 

On  they  came  in  swarms,  first,  joyous  and  light- 
hearted,  the  pride  and  flower  of  the  Fatherland,  the 
sons  of  the  wealthy,  who,  as  Volunteer  Jagers,  with 
their  own  horses  and  their  own  arms,  had  gone 
forth  to  the  war  of  Liberation.  Their  progress 
through  Germany  was  one  magnificent  ovation. 
Wherever  they  came,  their  path  was  strewn  with 
roses,  the  most  beautiful  of  maidens  longed  for  the 
honour  of  winning  their  love,  and  the  most  costly 
wines  flowed  like  water.  Behind  them  followed 
a  stream  of  Kossacks,  riding  over  the  German  fields 
with  a  loose  rein.  A  year  before,  when  they  had 
galloped  like  a  troop  of  furies  in  the  rear  of  the 
hunted  remnant  of  the  Grande  Arme'e,  the  whole 
country  had  greeted  them  as  saviours  of  Germany. 
Public  receptions  had  been  organised  in  their 
honour,  hymns  composed  in  their  praise,  and  all 
sorts  of  blue-eyed  German  sentiment  was  lavishly 
poured  out  on  the  unwashed  Tartar  horde.  To-day, 
too,  they  were  conscientiously  f£ted,  but  the  gaze 
of  all  true-hearted  Germans  was  directed  with 
intensest  longing  beyond  them,  looking  for  those 
who  were  still  to  come,  of  whom  they  seemed  but 
the  heralding  shadows. 

And  at  last  these  came,  the  men  of  the  people, 
who  had  taken  all  their  capital,  their  bare  lives,  in 
their  hand,  and  gone  forth  to  offer  it  up  for  the 
Fatherland.  They  advanced  with  a  sound  as  of 
bursting  trumpets,  half  hidden  by  dense  columns  of 
dust.  Not  exalted  and  splendid  beings  as  they  had 
often  been  painted  in  the  imagination  of  the  "  stay- 


4          THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS 

at-homes,"  with  a  halo  of  diamonds  flashing  round 
their  heads,  and  a  cloak  flung  proudly  like  a  toga 
round  their  shoulders.  No;  they  were  faded  and 
haggard,  tired  as  overdriven  horses,  covered  with 
vermin,  filthy  and  in  rags ;  their  beards  matted  with 
sweat  and  dust.  This  was  the  plight  in  which  they 
came  home.  Some  were  so  emaciated  and  ghastly 
pale  that  they  looked  as  if  they  could  hardly  drag 
one  weary  foot  after  the  other;  others  wore  a 
greedy,  brutalised  expression,  and  the  reflection  of 
the  lurid  glare  of  war  seemed  yet  to  linger  in  their 
sunken,  hollow  eyes.  They  held  their  knotty  fists 
still  clenched  in  the  habitual  cramp  of  murderous 
lust.  Only  here  and  there  shone  tears  of  pure, 
inspired  emotion ;  only  here  and  there  hands  were 
folded  on  the  butt-end  of  muskets  in  reverent, 
grateful  prayer.  But  all  were  welcome,  and  none 
were  too  coarse  and  hardened  by  their  work  of 
blood  and  revenge  to  find  balm  in  the  tears  and 
kisses  of  their  loved  ones,  and  to  greet  with  hope 
the  dawn  of  purer  times.  Of  course  it  could  not 
be  expected  that  passions  which  had  been  lashed 
into  such  abnormal  and  furious  activity,  would  all 
at  once  calm  down  and  slumber  again.  The  hand 
that  has  wielded  a  sword  needs  time  before  it  can 
accustom  itself  to  the  plough  and  scythe,  and  not 
every  man  knows  how  to  forget  immediately  the  wild 
licence  of  the  camp  in  the  hallowed  atmosphere 
of  home. 

Every  peace  is  followed  by  a  period  of  delirium. 
It  was  thus  in  Germany  in  anno  '14.     That  year, 


THE  SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS          5 

from  which  to  this  generation  nothing  has  descended 
but  the  echo  of  a  unison  of  paeans,  swelling  organ- 
strains,  and  clash  of  bells,  was  in  reality  more  re- 
markable for  tyranny  and  crime  than  any  year  before 
or  since.  More  especially  was  this  the  case  in  dis- 
tricts where  before  the  war  the  overweening  arro- 
gance and  cruelty  of  the  French  occupier  had  been 
most  heavily  felt.  Here  the  beast  was  let  loose  in 
man.  The  senses  of  those  who  stayed  at  home 
had  been  so  inflamed  by  the  scent  of  blood  from  dis- 
tant battle-fields,  and  the  smoke  of  burning  villages, 
that  they  conjured  up  before  their  mental  eyes 
scenes  of  horror  and  devastation  at  which  they  had 
not  been  present.  Many  thirsted  for  vengeance  on 
secret  wrongs,  on  acts  of  cowardice  and  treachery 
as  yet  unexpiated.  After  all,  it  seemed  as  if  the 
awakened  fervour  of  patriotism,  the  flowing  streams 
of  freshly-spilled  blood,  could  not  suffice  even  now 
to  wipe  out  the  memory  of  the  shame  and  humilia- 
tion of  previous  years. 

No  one  had  any  suspicion,  then,  that  the  Corsican 
vulture,  set  fast  in  his  island  cage,  was  already  be- 
ginning to  sharpen  his  iron  beak,  preparatory  to 
gnawing  through  its  bars,  and  that  before  his  final 
capture  thousands  of  veins  were  yet  to  be  opened 
and  drained  of  their  blood. 


CHAPTER  II 

ONE  August  day  in  this  memorable  year,  a  party  oi 
young  men  were  gathered  together  in  the  parlour 
of  a  large  country  house. 

The  oak  table  round  which  they  were  seated  pre- 
sented a  goodly  array  of  tankards,  and  short,  bulky 
bottles  containing  schnaps.  Their  faces,  flushed  with 
brandy  and  enthusiasm,  were  almost  entirely  con- 
cealed from  view  by  the  dense  clouds  of  smoke 
they  puffed  from  their  huge  pipes. 

They  were  defenders  of  their  country  only  lately 
returned  home,  and  were  revelling  in  reminiscences 
of  the  war.  There  was  that  distinct  family  likeness 
among  them  which  equality  in  birth,  breeding,  and 
education  often  stamps  on  men  between  whom 
there  exists  no  tie  of  blood-relationship. 

Warfare  had  coarsened  their  honest,  healthy 
countenances,  and  left  its  mark  there  in  many  a  dis- 
figuring scar  and  gash.  Two  or  three  still  wore  their 
arms  in  slings,  and  evidently  none  of  them  had  as  yet 
made  up  their  minds  to  lay  aside  the  black,  frogged 
military  coat  to  which  they  had  become  so  proudly 
accustomed.  For  the  most  part  they  were  well-to- 
do  yeomen  belonging  to  the  village  of  Heide  and 
its  outlying  hamlets,  and  though  their  homes  were 

6 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS          7 

sc.  Ifcered  they  were  united  in  a  strong  bond  of 
neighbourly  friendship.  Some  still  lived  on  their 
fathers'  patrimony,  others  had  come  into  their  own 
estate.  It  had  never  been  their  lot  to  experience 
the  pinch  of  poverty,  to  till  the  soil  and  follow  the 
plough,  and  so  they  had  remained  unaffected  by  the 
great  changes  Stein's  new  code  a  few  years  before 
had  brought  about  in  the  position  of  the  peasantry. 
In  the  spring,  when  the  King's  appeal  to  his  subjects 
had  resounded  through  the  land,  they  could  afford 
to  leave  their  crops  and,  like  the  sons  of  the  nobility, 
hurry  with  their  own  arms  and  their  own  horses  to 
enlist  in  the  ranks  of  the  volunteer  Jagers. 

Only  one  member  of  the  little  group  apparently 
belonged  to  another  station  in  life.  He  occupied 
the  one  easy-chair  the  house  boasted,  an  ungainly 
piece  of  upholstery,  much  the  worse  for  wear. 

His  face  was  pale,  somewhat  sallow  in  colouring. 
The  features  were  refined  and  delicately  chiselled. 
The  brown,  melancholy  eyes  were  shaded  by  long 
black  lashes,  which  when  he  looked  down  cast  a  heavy 
fringe  of  shadow  on  his  thin  cheeks.  Though  he 
must  certainly  have  been  the  youngest  of  them  all, 
having  hardly  completed  his  twenty-second  year,  he 
looked  like  a  man  who  had  long  ago  ceased  to  take 
any  pleasure  in  the  mere  frivolities  of  life. 

On  his  smooth,  square  brow  were  lines  that 
denoted  energy  and  defiance,  and  in  the  blue  hollows 
round  his  eyes  lay  traces  of  a  past  sorrow.  He 
wore  a  grey  overcoat  that  seemed  too  narrow  across 
the  shoulders,  and  beneath  it  a  woollen  shirt  finely 


8  THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

tucked,  and  ornamented  with  a  row  of  mother-of- 
oearl  buttons.  The  only  military  thing  about  him  was 
the  forage-cap  bearing  the  Landwehr  badge,  which 
he  had  pushed  on  to  the  back  of  his  head,  to  prevent 
the  hard  edge  pressing  on  the  scarcely  healed  wound 
which  made  a  lurid  streak  on  his  forehead,  close  to 
where  the  dark  hair  clustered  in  heavy  masses. 

He  was  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes.  Every  one 
waited  anxiously  for  him  to  take  the  lead  in  con- 
versation. Next  to  him,  on  his  right,  sat  a  muscular 
youth,  not  much  older  than  himself,  who  regarded 
him  with  unceasing  and  tender  solicitude.  To  all 
appearances  he  was  the  host.  There  was  a  patch 
of  white  plaster  on  one  of  his  temples,  but  his 
round,  jovial  face  beamed  radiantly  nevertheless 
out  of  its  frame  of  unkempt  fair  hair  that  hung  about 
his  neck  and  throat  in  wildest  confusion. 

"  I  say,  lieutenant,  you  are  positively  drinking 
nothing,"  he  exclaimed,  pushing  the  bottle  nearer 
him.  "Because  you  aren't  used  to  our  beer,  and 
still  less  used  to  our  schnaps,  there's  no  reason 
why  you  should  be  shy  of  swilling  that  red  stuff  of 
which  we  have  plenty  to  spare.  .  .  .  We  aren't 
rich,  as  you  know,  but  if  you  stopped  here  till 
Doomsday  we  could  supply  you  every  day  with  a 
bottle  like  that.  Couldn't  we,  lads  ?  " 

The  others  assented,  and  pressed  round  him 
eagerly  to  clink  their  mugs  and  liqueur-glasses 
against  his  cracked  wine-glass. 

A  ray  of  gratitude  and  pleasure  illumined  momen- 
tarily the  sad,  pale  face. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS          9 

"I  knew,"  he  said — "  I  knew  that  if  I  came  here 
you'd  make  me  feel  at  home.  Otherwise  I  should 
have  gone  on  my  way." 

"  That  would  have  been  kind  of  you,  I  must  say, 
cried  the  host  —  "what  did  we  enter  into  our 
covenant  of  blood  for,  and  swear  to  be  true  till 
death  after  our  first  battle,  don't  you  remember  ?  In 
the  church  at  ...  where  was  it  ?  I  never  can  pro- 
nounce the  name  of  the  cursed  hole  ! " 

"  The  hole  was  Dannigkow,"  answered  the  young 
stranger  addressed  as  "  lieutenant" 

"  Ah,  yes,  that's  it !  "  the  host  went  on.  "  And 
do  you  imagine  we  went  through  that  little  cere- 
mony with  the  sole  purpose  of  letting  you  avoid  us 
in  future  ?  Was  it  for  that  we  chose  you  for  our 
commanding  officer,  and  blindly  followed  you  into 
the  thickest  of  the  fight  ?  No,  Baumgart,  there's 
no  cement  like  blood  and  powder.  So  the  devil 
take  it,  man,  you  must  promise  to  stay  with  us  a 
bit,  now  we've  got  you " 

"Don't  talk  nonsense,  old  fellow,  it  is  impos- 
sible," the  lieutenant  replied,  and  blew  thoughtfully 
on  the  purple  mirror  of  his  wine.  But  his  friend 
was  not  to  be  silenced. 

"  You  needn't  be  frightened,"  he  continued,  "  that 
we  shall  plague  you  with  curious  questions.  From 
the  first  we  got  into  the  way  of  looking  on  you  as 
a  sort  of  mystery.  When  we  others  used  to  lie  by 
the  bivouac  fire  and  talk  of  our  homes  and  parents, 
our  sweethearts  and  sisters,  your  lips  were  resolutely 
sealed  as  they  are  now.  And  if  one  of  us  plucked 


io        THE  SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

up  courage  to  ask  you  where  you  came  from,  and 
what  you  had  been  before  the  war,  you  always  got 
up  and  walked  away.  We  gave  up  questioning  you 
at  last,  and  thought  to  ourselves,  'He  has  gone 
through  a  furnace,  may  be,  that  has  spoilt  his  life, 
and  what  concern  is  that  of  ours  ? '  You  were  a 
good  comrade,  all  of  us  can  testify  to  that,  and 
what  is  more,  the  most  fearless,  the  bravest.  .  .  . 
Ah,  well,  the  fact  is,  that  you  had  only  to  tell  one 
of  us  to  cut  off  his  right  hand,  and  he'd  have  done 
it  without  a  murmur.  Isn't  it  true,  lads  ?  " 

An  exclamation  of  assent  went  round  the  table. 

"  For  mercy's  sake,  say  no  more,"  said  the  young 
lieutenant.  "I  don't  know  which  way  to  look 
because  of  all  this  undeserved  praise." 

"Wait,  I've  more  to  say  yet,"  the  master  of  the 
house  insisted  on  continuing.  "  Once  we  were 
really  almost  angry  with  you.  You  know  why 
that  was.  During  the  armistice,  shortly  before  we 
joined  forces  with  the  Lithuanians  under  Platen  and 
Billow,  you  were  in  the  guard-room  one  evening, 
when  you  suddenly  made  a  clean  breast  of  it  and 
announced  that  you  must  go  away.  You  said, 
'  Don't  ask  me  the  reason,  lads.  But  believe  me, 
I  can't  help  myself.  The  Landwehr  wants  officers. 
I  know  it  is  not  much  of  an  honour  to  leave  the 
Jagers,  for  the  Landwehr ;  but  I'm  going  to  do  it,  all 
the  same.'  Those  were  your  very  words,  weren't 
they,  Baumgart  ?  " 

The  lieutenant  nodded,  and  a  bitter  smile  played 
round  his  lips. 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS        n 

"  Tears  were  in  your  eyes  as  you  spoke,  otherwise 
one  or  other  of  us  would  have  asked  you  if  that  was 
all  the  thanks  we  were  to  get  for  the  confidence  we 
had  placed  in  you,  to  be  deserted  just  then  .  .  . 
just  when  we  longed  to  show  those  Platen  fellows 
what  baiting  the  French  really  meant.  .  .  .  We  let 
you  go  without  raising  an  objection,  but  our  hearts 
bled.  .  .  .  Afterwards  we  heard  nothing  of  you, 
no  news  in  reply  to  all  our  inquiries;  but  I  can 
tell  you  this  much,  we  never  ceased  to  talk  of  you 
every  night  for  months.  We  racked  our  brains  to 
think  what  had  taken  you  away;  speculated  on 
where  you  were  gone,  and  the  like,  till  the  men  who 
joined  later  and  had  known  you  got  sick  of  it,  and 
implored  us  to  give  up  talking  about  you,  and  to  con- 
sign you  to  the  Landwehr  refuse-heap  once  for  all. 
So  you  see  how  we  pined  for  you ;  and  now,  after 
two  days,  you  actually  propose  to  turn  your  back 
on  us  again !  It's  a  long  journey  from  the  Marne 
to  the  Weichsel,  and  a  solitary  one  to  walk,  and 
your  wounds  still  smarting.  Stay  and  take  a  good 
rest,  and  relate  at  your  leisure  what  your  adventures 
with  the  greybeards  really  were,  and  how  you 
came  to  be  taken  prisoner  ...  it  must  have  been  a 
strange  accident  that  betrayed  you  into  captivity  ?  " 

He  glanced  down  with  ingenuous  pride  at  the 
iron  cross  which  dangled  between  the  froggings  of 
his  coat.  It  had  been  bestowed  on  him  in  reward 
for  the  intrepidity  with  which  he  had,  unpardoned, 
hewn  his  way  out  of  a  nest  of  French  Hussars  and 
regained  his  liberty. 


12         THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS 

The  lieutenant's  breast  was  bare  of  ornament. 
At  the  end  of  the  campaign,  when  a  shower  of 
decorations  had  rained  down  on  the  victorious 
warriors,  he  had  not  been  present  to  receive  his 
share.  A  painful  sensation  of  being  passed  in 
the  race,  almost  akin  to  shame,  swept  over  him. 
He  pushed  his  cap  farther  on  to  his  brow,  and 
drew  himself  erect  in  his  chair,  as  if  its  fusty 
cushions  threatened  to  suffocate  him. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  "  for  your  kind  intentions, 
but  I  must  go  to  Konigsberg  directly  to  report 
myself  to  the  Commandant." 

"  I'm  afraid  you'll  have  some  difficulty  in  finding 
him  there,"  put  in  a  curly-headed  young  man  with 
twinkling  dark  eyes,  who  wore  his  right  arm  in  a 
black  sling. 

"  Don't  you  know  that  directly  it  came  back  the 
Landwehr  was  disbanded  ?  " 

"  Even  the  staff  is  broken  up/'  remarked  an- 
other. 

"  Then  I  must  try  my  luck  with  the  Commis- 
sioner-General," replied  Lieutenant  Baumgart.  "I 
have  more  reason,  perhaps,  than  any  one  else  to  be 
extra  careful  that  my  discharge  papers  are  in  good 
order.  At  least,  I  fancy  so.  I  don't  want  the 
reproach  to  be  fastened  on  me  that  I  sneaked  out 
of  the  army  secretly.  So,  please  let  me  know  as 
soon  as  you  can  if  there  will  be  any  conveyance 
going  to-morrow  to  Konigsberg  ?  " 

A  storm  of  indignation  arose.  They  all  left  their 
seats,  some  seizing  his  hand,  some  forming  a  cordon 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS        13 

round  him,  as  if  to  prevent  his  departure  by  physical 
force. 

"Stay  at  least  a  little  longer,  lest  the  fete  we  are 
organising  in  your  honour  should  fall  through,"  ex- 
horted Karl  Engelbert,  the  young  host,  as  soon  as 
he  could  make  his  voice  heard  above  the  hubbub. 

Baumgart  turned  to  him  with  a  quick  gesture  of 
inquiry. 

"In  my  honour?"  he  exclaimed.  "Are  you 
mad?" 

"There's  no  getting  out  of  it  now,"  was  the  an- 
swer. "It  was  all  settled  the  day  you  turned  up 
here.  I  despatched  Johann  Radtke  at  once  with 
a  list  of  all  the  Jagers  in  the  country  round 
who  are  at  home.  Then,  you  know,  we  have  repre- 
sentatives of  six  or  seven  regiments  living  about 
here.  .  .  .  Especially  did  I  impress  on  him  that 
he  was  to  go  to  Schranden,  where  Merckel  lives. 
Merckel,"  he  added,  "went  over  to  the  Landwehr, 
too ;  for  if  he  hadn't,  he  couldn't  have  made  sure  of 
his  lieutenancy.  So  there  was  more  sense  in  his 
taking  the  step." 

Baumgart  at  the  mention  of  his  name  winced,  but 
quickly  recovering  himself,  gripped  convulsively  the 
arms  of  the  battered  easy-chair,  and,  with  head 
bowed,  listened  in  silence  to  what  his  well-meaning 
friends  had  to  say  about  the  gala-day  arranged  in 
his  honour.  He  gave  up  protesting  further,  because 
he  saw  open  resistance  was  useless.  But  the  un- 
easy glances  he  cast  about  him  seemed  to  indicate 
that  he  was  meditating  immediate -flight. 


14        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

His  friends,  however,  did  not  observe  his  rest- 
lessness. After  the  excitement  of  war  which  had 
stirred  their  blood  out  of  its  normal  channel,  they 
found  it  irksome  to  subside  into  the  ordinary  routine 
of  private  life,  and  hailed  with  delight  any  excuse 
for  varying  its  monotony  with  a  few  hours'  roister- 
ing and  dissipation.  They  were  now  engaged  in 
eagerly  discussing  the  result  of  their  messenger's 
mission,  whose  return  from  Schranden,  a  few  miles 
away,  they  had  been  expecting  hourly  all  the 
morning. 

"I  wonder,"  said  Peter  Negenthin,  the  youth 
with  the  black  sling,  "how  the  Schrandeners  are 
getting  on  with  that  fine  landlord  of  theirs  ?  " 

Lieutenant  Baumgart  started  and  listened  with 
all  his  ears. 

"  They  set  his  house  on  fire  long  ago,"  remarked 
another.  "  For  five  years  he's  been  roosting  among 
the  blackened  ruins  like  an  owl." 

"  Why  didn't  he  build  his  castle  up  again  ? " 
asked  a  third. 

"Why?  Because  the  peasants  and  farmers 
down  in  the  village  would  have  thrashed  any  one 
at  the  cart-wheel  who  dared  to  work  for  him.  Once 
he  tried  getting  labourers  over  from  his  foreign 
estates,  thinking  that  as  they  couldn't  understand 
German  it  would  be  all  right;  .  .  .  but  there  was 
a  free  fight  one  day  down  at  the  inn,  and  heigh 
presto! — the  Poles  were  hounded  back  to  where 
they  came  from.  Since  then  he  hasn't  made  any 
more  attempts  to  cultivate  his  land  " 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS        15 

"  How  does  he  live  then  ?  " 

"  Who  cares  how  he  lives !     Let  him  starve." 

In  the  midst  of  laughter,  mingled  with  growls  of 
hate  which  this  humane  remark  had  called  forth 
from  these  doughty  sons  of  the  soil,  the  anxiously 
awaited  ambassador  entered  the  room.  He  was 
a  stoutly  built  short  man,  whose  straight  fair  hair, 
as  yellow  and  bright  as  new  thatch,  hung  over  his 
round  face,  which  was  the  colour  of  a  lobster  from 
exposure  to  the  heat  of  the  sun.  Steaming  with 
perspiration,  and  breathless  from  his  hurried  ride, 
he  seized  the  stone  jug  of  monstrous  girth  that 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  table,  before  speaking  a 
word,  and  held  it  to  his  lips  with  both  hands,  where 
it  remained  so  long  that  it  had  at  last  to  be  torn 
away  from  his  mouth  by  force,  much  to  the  amuse- 
ment of  the  company.  After  a  fusilade  of  banter 
and  jokes  had  been  discharged  at  him  from  all  sides, 
he  blurted  forth  his  news.  The  idea  of  the  f£te 
had,  it  seemed,  been  caught  at  with  enthusiasm. 
Every  one  in  the  neighbourhood  was  willing  to  lend 
his  countenance  to  festivities  in  honour  of  those 
who  had  done  such  splendid  service  in  the  cause  of 
German  Unity.  The  only  difference  of  opinion  was 
as  to  where  they  were  to  come  off.  The  Schran- 
deners,  with  Lieutenant  Merckel  at  their  head,  de- 
clared that  no  spot  on  earth  could  be  a  more 
appropriate  scene  for  their  celebration  than  their 
own  village. 

"Then  you  see,  lads,"  explained  the  messenger, 
"the  Schrandeners  have  private  reasons  for  being 


1 6        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

particularly  gay  just  now.  They  are  dancing  in 
front  of  their  houses,  and  scarcely  know  whether 
they  are  standing  on  their  head  or  their  heels. 
I'll  tell  you  why.  Perhaps  you  know  that  little 
chorale  that  they've  for  the  last  seven  years  been 
singing  in  church  ? 

*  Our  gracious  Baron  and  Lord 
Of  Schrandeners*  souls  abhorred. 
For  the  shame  he's  brought  on  our  head) 
O  Godt  let  the  plague  strike  him  dead." 

"Well,  in  a  fashion  their  prayer  has  been  an- 
swered. The  betrayer  of  their  country,  who  never 
tired  of  cursing  and  damning  them  up  hill  and 
down  dale,  and  heaped  on  them  every  foul  epithet 
he  could  lay  tongue  to,  may  now  lie  and  rot  in  a 
ditch  for  all  they  care.  They  have  sworn  not  to 
bury  him." 

Then  arose  excited  shouts  and  eager  questioning. 

11  Is  he  dead,  the  dog  ?  " 

"Has  the  devil  taken  him  to  himself  at  last? 
Hal  ha!  Bravo  1" 

Suddenly,  above  the  din  of  voices,  a  grinding 
crunching  noise  was  heard.  Baumgart's  arm  had 
clasped  the  back  of  his  chair  with  such  vehemence 
that  the  long-suffering  worm-eaten  wood  had  col- 
lapsed. He  sat  rigid  and  motionless,  staring  at  the 
speaker  with  wide,  strained  eyes,  unconscious  of 
the  injury  he  had  inflicted  on  the  ancestral  piece 
of  furniture.  Then  garrulous  Johann  Radtke 
proceeded — 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS         17 

"Yes,  happily  enough,  they  were  the  cause  of 
his  death  at  last.  They  have  never  ceased  to 
harass  and  torment  him,  and  it  was  while  they 
were  trying  to  demolish  the  Cats'  Bridge  that  he 
had  a  stroke  of  apoplexy  from  rage,  and  fell  down 
foaming  at  the  mouth." 

"Lieutenant,  have  you  ever  heard  of  the  Cats' 
Bridge?" 

Still  he  neither  moved  nor  uttered  a  word ;  only 
set  his  teeth  on  his  under  lip,  till  it  bled.  As  if 
turned  to  stone,  he  sat  gazing  fixedly  up  into  the 
speaker's  face. 

"  It  was  by  the  Cats'  Bridge  that  the  French  made 
the  famous,  or  rather  I  should  say  infamous,  sortie 
which  surprised  the  Prussians,  and  it  was  the 
Baron  who  showed  them  the  secret  path  which 
leads  to  it.  You  have  heard  of  the  Schranden  inva- 
sion, of  course.  It's  recorded  in  every  calendar  ?  " 

The  lieutenant  nodded  mechanically  like  a  doomed 
man,  who,  swooning,  resigns  himself  to  inevitable 
fate. 

"The  stroke  took  him  before  their  very  eyes," 
Radtke  went  on.  "  His  precious  sweetheart,  the 
village  carpenter's  daughter,  the  baggage  who  lived 
with  him,  you  know,  threw  herself  on  his  body, 
for  the  Lord  only  knows  what  liberties  they 
might  not  have  taken  with  it  when  their  blood 
was  up." 

"  And  now  they  refuse  to  bury  him,  you  say  ?  " 
interrupted  the  good-natured  Karl  Engelbert,  shak- 
ing his  head  meditatively.  "  Is  such  a  scandalous 

B 


1 8        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

outrage  as  that  allowed  to  pass  unpunished  in  a 
Christian  country  ?  " 

Johann  laughed  scoffingly. 

"  The  Schrandeners  are  like  a  flock  of  sheep.  If 
one  declines  to  pollute  his  hands  with  bearing  such 
carrion  to  the  grave,  all  the  rest  decline  also.  And 
who  can  blame  them  ?  " 

"  But,"  some  one  suggested,  "  suppose  it  came 
to  the  ear  of  the  law  ?  " 

"The  law!  Ha,  ha!  Old  Merckel  is  their 
magistrate,  and  he  says,  as  far  as  he  is  concerned, 
they  might  have  flayed " 

He  broke  off  abruptly,  for  with  a  smothered  cry 
of  pain,  and  a  gesture  half  threatening,  half  self- 
defensive,  the  young  lieutenant  had  started  to  his 
feet.  He  was  whiter  than  the  whitewashed  wall 
behind  him,  and  a  thin  thread  of  crimson  trickled 
from  his  blanched  lips,  over  his  chin. 

"  Stop,  for  God's  sake ! "  he  stammered  in  a 
strange  muffled  almost  inaudible  voice,  and  those 
who  caught  his  words  shrank  away  in  horror. 

"  He  was  my  father  I  " 


CHAPTER   III 

THE  moon  had  risen  and  flooded  the  tranquil  heath 
with  its  soft  bluish  radiance.  Down  in  the  marshes 
the  alder-bushes  were  tipped  with  crowns  of  light, 
and  the  white,  slender  trunks  of  the  birches  which 
flanked  the  highway  in  interminable  rows  shone 
and  shimmered,  till  the  road  seemed  to  stretch  away 
and  lose  itself  between  hedges  of  burnished  silver. 
Silence  reigned  everywhere.  The  last  note  of  the 
birds'  evening  chorale  had  long  since  died  away. 
Peace,  the  peace  of  well-being,  peculiar  to  late 
summer,  pervaded  the  wide-stretching  level  fields. 
Even  the  grasshopper  in  the  ditch,  and  a  field- 
mouse  scurrying  in  alarm  through  the  tall  blades  of 
corn,  hardly  broke  the  stillness. 

A  traveller  with  staff  and  knapsack  came  along 
the  road,  gazing  absently  before  him,  evidently  obli- 
vious of  the  magic  of  the  moon-lit  landscape.  It 
was  the  young  lieutenant,  on  his  way  home  to  bury 
the  father  whose  memory  was  held  in  such  universal 
detestation.  His  host  had  put  his  best  equipage  at 
his  disposal,  but  his  comrade  had  firmly  refused  to 
accept  the  offer,  and  he  had  been  obliged  to  content 
himself  with  accompanying  his  guest  part  of  the 
way  on  foot.  At  parting  he  had  solemnly  affirmed 


20        THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

that  the  compact  of  eternal  friendship  that  they  had 
entered  into  as  brothers-in-arms  after  their  first 
baptism  of  fire  would  hold  good  now  and  always, 
"  the  sins  of  the  fathers  "  notwithstanding.  When- 
ever he  was  in  need  of  help  and  sympathy  in  the 
future,  he  might  rely  on  the  good-will  of  him  and 
his  neighbours. 

This  was  meant  well,  but  brought  no  comfort  to 
the  young  man's  sore  heart.  The  allusion  to  "  the 
sins  of  the  fathers"  stung  him  to  the  quick.  It 
sounded  very  much  like  an  insult,  yet  an  insult 
that  he  was  powerless  to  resent  openly,  as  there 
was  no  shuffling  off  the  incubus  of  shame  which, 
as  his  father's  heir,  now  weighed  on  his  innocent 
shoulders. 

Thus  fiercely  brooding  he  walked  on,  and  pictures 
of  the  past  involuntarily  rose  before  his  mental 
vision.  He  had  never  loved  his  father — the  harsh, 
tyrannical  man  who  flogged  the  peasants,  whose 
laughter  was  more  terrible  than  his  oaths,  to  whom 
he,  his  only  son,  had  been  not  much  more  than  the 
pet  dog  that  one  minute  was  allowed  to  bite  his 
heels  when  he  was  in  a  good  humour,  only  to  be 
hurled  across  the  room  the  next  with  a  savage  kick. 
As  long  as  he  could  remember,  the  small  muscular 
figure,  the  sallow  face  with  its  high  cheek-bones, 
coal-black  goat's  beard,  and  little  keen  grey  eyes, 
had  been  the  terror  of  his  childhood.  His  mother 
he  had  never  known.  She  had  succumbed,  a  few 
years  after  his  birth,  to  a  long  and  tedious  illness. 
It  was  rumoured  at  the  time,  in  the  village,  that  her 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS        21 

lord's  ungovernable  passions  had  been  the  death  of 
her — that  his  love  was  as  terrible  as  his  hate. 

Her  picture  had  hung  at  the  end  of  a  long  line 
of  ghostly  portraits  in  the  dimly-lighted  picture- 
gallery  with  its  vaulted  roof,  where  one's  footsteps 
echoed  uncannily  between  the  stone  walls,  and 
where  it  was  possible  to  shiver  with  cold  on  the 
hottest  summer  day.  .  .  .  The  picture  of  a  gentle, 
tired-looking  woman  with  thin  bloodless  lips,  and 
half-closed  lids  that  seemed  to  droop  from  sheer 
weariness  and  lack  of  spirit. 

Many  a  time,  unseen,  the  boy  had  stood  by  the 
hour  before  this  picture,  and  waited — waited  for  the 
heavy  lids  to  lift,  that  one  warm  ray  of  maternal 
love  might  at  last  be  shed  into  his  lonely  young 
life.  He  would  fold  his  hands  in  prayer,  and  lift 
a  tear-stained  face  in  eager  anticipation,  while  his 
heart  beat  for  fear ;  but  the  picture  never  came  to 
life.  Tired  and  slumberous  as  ever,  as  if  already 
half -closed  in  their  last  long  sleep,  the  heavily 
shadowed,  star-like  eyes  continued  to  look  down 
on  him  with  a  strange,  cold,  metallic  gleam,  till  he 
could  bear  it  no  longer,  and  would  rush  from  the 
spot  half  distracted  with  disappointment 

Not  far  from  his  mother's  picture  hung  another 
still  more  remarkable — the  portrait  of  an  exquisitely 
beautiful  woman  with  blue-black  hair.  The  artist 
had  represented  her  in  the  act  of  mounting  a  horse. 
A  red  velvet  cloak,  embroidered  with  gold  and 
bordered  with  fur,  hung  over  her  left  shoulder,  and 
in  her  right  hand,  which  was  covered  with  a  long, 


22        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

wrinkled,  gauntleted  glove,  she  tenaciously  grasped 
her  riding-whip.  It  was  easy  to  imagine  her  bring- 
ing it  down  with  a  will  on  the  back  of  a  mauvais 
sujet.  The  whole  figure  was  instinct  with  indomi- 
table spirit  and  energy.  Life  glowed  in  the  dark 
eyes  that  flashed  imperiously  from  the  canvas,  as 
if  demanding  the  homage  of  all  who  came  within 
their  radius.  This  was  his  grandmother  in  her 
youth — the  old  lady  whose  shrill  scolding  tongue, 
and  witch-like  appendages  in  the  shape  of  gold- 
headed  canes,  liqueur-glasses,  and  snuff-boxes,  were 
indissolubly  associated  with  the  boy's  earliest 
memories.  She  had  been  the  evil  star  of  his 
house.  Before  her  marriage,  one  of  the  most 
admired  beauties  of  the  Polish  Court  in  Saxony, 
she  had  instilled  into  his  father  with  the  milk  from 
her  breast  love  for  the  country  of  the  Pole,  so  that 
he,  a  nobleman  of  German  name  and  lineage,  living 
on  German  soil,  grew  up  to  hate  the  land  of  his 
birth,  and  to  set  all  his  affections  on  the  moribund 
chimera  of  Polish  nationality.  Though  he  had 
married  a  German  lady,  he  had  not  hesitated  to 
give  his  son  a  Polish  name,  which,  to  be  doomed 
to  bear  at  a  time  when  the  spirit  of  hyper-sensitive 
patriotism  was  rampant  in  the  land,  seemed  a  worse 
misfortune  by  far  than  being  afflicted  by  some 
hereditary  disease. 

But  what  was  the  innocent  name  of  Boleslav  com- 
pared with  the  indelible  disgrace  that  his  father, 
through  his  insane  infatuation  for  the  Poles,  had 
since  brought  on  him  and  his  race  ? 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS        23 

And  now  he  was  dead,  this  father,  and  of  the 
dead  one  should  speak  no  evil.  Yet  even  as  he 
repeated  this  truism  to  himself,  the  consciousness 
of  the  stain  with  which  he  was  branded,  which  no 
power  on  earth  could  remove,  overwhelmed  him 
with  acutest  anguish. 

Passionately  he  threw  up  his  arms  towards  the 
soft,  blue,  star-spangled  heavens,  as  if  he  fain 
would  demand  that  the  soul  of  his  father  should 
be  instantly  brought  to  judgment,  no  matter  in 
what  remote  planet  it  might  be  hiding. 

Then  came  a  reaction.  His  vehemence  was  suc- 
ceeded by  a  gentler  mood.  He  flung  himself  on  the 
damp,  dewy  grass  by  the  roadside,  and  buried  his 
face  in  his  hands.  He  felt  he  should  like  to  cry. 
But  his  lids  remained  dry  and  burning.  The 
thought  of  his  immediate  future  was  almost  more 
than  he  could  bear.  He  reflected  that  in  a  few 
hours  he  should  find  a  forsaken  wilderness,  a 
howling  desolation,  where  once  bathed  in  all  the 
rosy  radiance  of  his  boyish  vision  he  had  beheld  a 
scene  of  sylvan  peace  and  beauty. 

For  though  he  had  been  a  lonely,  motherless 
boy,  it  would  have  been  wicked  and  ungrateful  to 
maintain  that  even  his  childhood  had  not  had 
its  share  of  sunshine,  and  boasted  its  hours  of 
unalloyed  delight.  Had  he  not  been  allowed  to 
roam  where  he  listed,  through  field  and  forest, 
untrammelled  by  conventions  about  meals  and  bed- 
time, as  free  to  do  as  he  pleased  as  any  Robin 
Hood  or  gipsy  in  Arcadia?  When  the  soft  May 


24        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

zephyrs  breathed  on  the  shaking  grasses,  and  the 
yellow  butterfly  danced  from  flower  to  flower,  he 
had  lain  on  his  back  between  the  tall  blades  and 
meadow-sweet,  looking  up  into  the  blue  sky,  his 
day-dreams  undisturbed.  He  might  have  stayed 
there  from  morning  till  night;  so  long  as  he  was 
not  hungry  he  did  stay,  and  it  mattered  to  no  one. 

If  he  took  it  into  his  head  to  wander  off  with  the 
shepherd  to  the  distant  moorlands,  fro  partake  of 
black  bread  from  his  wallet,  and  quench  his  thirst 
at  the  babbling  streams,  who  was  there  to  prevent 
it?  He  was  his  own  master.  Round  the  Castle, 
which  commanded  an  extensive  view  of  the  country, 
flowed  the  sparkling,  merry  river,  in  great  serpen- 
tine curves,  between  its  wooded  banks  and  green 
terraces.  By  the  river-side  there  was  always  some- 
thing of  interest  going  on.  There  the  grooms 
watered  the  horses,  the  tanner  washed  his  skins, 
and  the  boys  winked  from  behind  their  fishing-rods 
at  the  servant-girls  paddling  bare-legged  in  and 
out  of  the  water.  But  greatest  delight  of  all — 
when  the  sun  went  down  behind  the  alders,  the 
stately  wild  deer  would  venture  cautiously  out  of 
the  neighbouring  thicket,  climb  down  the  steep 
incline,  through  bush  and  briar,  and  thirstily  lap  up 
the  moisture  with  its  parched  tongue.  Often  it  was 
necessary  to  lie  in  ambush  more  than  half-an-hour 
without  moving  so  much  as  a  hair  to  witness  this 
enchanting  spectacle,  otherwise  it  would  have 
vanished  like  a  mirage.  And  what  in  the  world 
could  be  more  glorious  than,  when  the  moon  rose 


THE  SINS    OF  THE    FATHERS        25 

and  cast  a  silver  network  on  the  ripples ;  when  the 
alders  looked  like  white-veiled  princesses,  and  the 
lively  wenches  sang  over  their  griddle  snatches  of 
plaintive  song,  to  plunge  into  the  depths  of  the 
wood,  and  with  a  canopy  of  foliage  overhead,  and 
moonbeams  dancing  round  you,  dream  the  night 
away,  and  wake  to  greet  the  dawn  ?  He  let  his 
hands  fall  from  his  face ;  and  stared  round  him  with 
vacant,  wild  eyes.  The  fields  lay  white  and  still 
in  the  moonlight. 

Only  the  tree  under  which  he  rested  cast  dark, 
jagged  bars  of  shadow  over  the  peaceful  landscape. 
A  pitiful  sound  like  the  scream  of  a  child  in  distress 
arose  in  the  distance.  It  came  from  a  young  hare 
that  had  lost  itself  in  the  furrows,  and  frightened 
and  hungry  was  crying  for  its  mother,  little  sus- 
pecting that  every  yell  was  but  a  fresh  signal  to  its 
murderers.  He  was  thrilled  with  compassion  for 
the  sufferings  of  dumb  creation,  as  he  rose  and 
pursued  his  way.  .  .  .  Reminiscences  still  kept 
pace  with  his  footsteps. 

Now  it  was  his  school-days  that  came  vividly  back 
to  him — the  time  when  the  old  Pastor  Gotz  had 
undertaken  his  education,  and  the  white  parsonage 
among  the  nut-bushes  became  his  second  home. 
No  more  vagabond  roamings  now,  for  the  grey- 
bearded,  fiery -tempered  old  parson  was  a  stern 
disciplinarian,  and  kept  his  pupils  in  good  order. 
There  were  ten  or  twelve  of  them — boys  and  girls 
together ; — children  of  the  well-to-do  farmer  class. 
He  had,  of  course,  never  associated  with  the  children 


26        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

of  the  peasantry,  who  were  allowed  to  run  wild  and 
grow  up  like  young  cattle.  This  was  not  to  be 
wondered  at,  considering  the  village  schoolmaster, 
an  ex-valet  of  his  father's,  superannuated  through 
drink,  spent  most  of  the  time  that  should  have  been 
engaged  in  teaching  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot,  in 
the  various  taverns  of  the  neighbourhood. 

Felix  Merckel,  son  of  the  village  innkeeper,  was 
the  one  of  his  comrades  he  remembered  best — a 
strapping,  unruly  lad,  who,  at  the  age  of  ten,  wore 
top-boots  and  carried  a  gun,  and  whose  tendency  to 
bully  kept  the  whole  school  in  subjection.  Even 
Boleslav  himself,  though  two  years  younger,  and 
of  a  retiring  nature  that  had  little  in  common  with 
the  elder  boy's  somewhat  bumptious  temperament, 
was  much  influenced  by  him.  Yet  his  position  as 
the  squire's  son  was  never  lost  sight  of,  and  Felix 
joined  with  his  other  schoolfellows  in  paying  him  a 
sort  of  sly  homage  in  deference  to  it.  Felix  was  his 
mentor  in  all  boyish  accomplishments.  He  taught 
him  to  swim,  to  row,  to  snare  birds,  to  make  fire- 
works, to  shoot  rabbits,  and  even  to  plunder  the 
poor  peasants'  garden  during  church  time  on  Sun- 
day evenings.  And  though  the  fruit  in  his  own 
garden,  which  he  was  at  liberty  to  pick  whenever 
he  liked,  was  a  thousand  times  sweeter  and  more 
luscious  than  the  hard,  sour  stuff  he  clambered  after 
at  the  risk  of  breaking  his  neck,  he  could  not  with- 
stand the  allurements  of  those  secret  raids.  After- 
wards he  was  often  seized  with  remorse  on  account 
of  them,  and  was  so  heartily  ashamed  of  himseli 


THL  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS        27 

that  he  would  pay  back  in  the  morning  a  hundred- 
fold what  he  had  stolen  over-night.  Such  acts  of 
reparation,  nevertheless,  were  only  received  with 
scowls  or  smiles  of  malice,  for  the  unfortunate 
canaille  were  compelled  by  benighted  feudal  laws 
to  plough  and  delve  on  his  father's  estates,  and  were 
sorely  oppressed ;  therefore  it  was  only  natural  that 
the  boy  should  reap  to  the  full  the  harvest  of  bitter 
hate  sown  by  the  father. 

Of  his  other  companions,  especially  of  the  girls, 
he  had  nothing  but  the  haziest  recollection.  There 
was,  of  course,  one  exception.  Her  bright  image 
had  floated  before  him,  through  all  the  pain  and 
heartache  that  had  gradually  darkened  his  whole 
existence,  pain  which  even  the  fascinations  of  war 
could  not  alleviate.  It  was  her  image,  that  like  a 
lodestar  had  led  him  into  the  thickest  of  the  fight, 
and  had  not  faded  from  him  as  he  lay  wounded, 
and,  as  he  believed,  dying. 

Intense  longing  for  her  had  become  identified  with 
that  vague  yearning  after  happiness  which  still 
sometimes  possessed  him,  just  as  if  his  chances  of 
happiness  had  not,  by  his  father's  misdeeds,  been 
irretrievably  ruined. 

How  this  love  had  sprung  up  in  his  breast  and 
grown  apace,  becoming  stronger  every  day,  till  at 
last  the  whole  world  seemed  filled  with  its  reflec- 
tion, he  hardly  knew  himself. 

As  a  child,  the  pastor's  small  daughter  had  always 
been  distant  in  her  manner.  The  fresh,  neat,  fairy- 
'ike  little  creature  never  could  be  coaxed  by  any  of 


28        THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

them  into  jumping  a  ditch,  even  if  the  bottom  was 
dry,  and  was  very  particular  at  hide-and-seek  not 
to  allow  her  frocks  to  be  caught  hold  of  lest  "the 
gathers  should  go."  Now  and  then,  when  they  were 
alone  together,  Helene  would  show  off  with  pride  the 
glories  of  her  doll's  house,  and  point  out  that  the 
tiny  towels  had  hemmed  edges  and  a  monogram. 
They  would  be  getting  quite  confidential  till,  in  an 
outburst  of  boyish  spirits,  he  was  sure  to  do  some- 
thing rough  or  clumsy  which  brought  down  on  his 
head  a  gentle  rebuke,  and  he  was  reminded  of  the 
limitations  of  their  friendship.  Hurt  and  ashamed, 
he  would  afterwards  try  to  keep  out  of  her  way, 
but  a  smile  of  forgiveness  never  failed  to  bring  him 
to  her  feet,  for  there  was  a  kind  of  sovereignty  in 
her  little  person  that  was  not  to  be  resisted. 

Felix  resented  her  power.  He  called  her  affected 
and  a  mollycoddle,  and  teased  her  as  only  he  could 
tease.  She,  on  her  part,  had  an  aggravating  trick 
of  turning  up  her  nose  and  appearing  to  look  down 
on  him,  though  he  was  a  good  head  taller,  which 
goaded  him  into  tormenting  her  the  more,  and  ended 
in  her  running  to  her  father,  and  with  streaming 
eyes  begging  that  Felix  might  be  punished. 

At  twelve  years  old,  Boleslav  left  his  birthplace. 
Some  relations  on  his  mother's  side,  belonging  to 
the  old  Prussian  official  nobility,  proposed  to  con- 
tinue his  education.  His  father  had  every  reason 
to  congratulate  himself  at  getting  rid  of  him.  The 
life  he  had  led  since  his  wife  died  was  scarcely 
of  a  character  to  bear  the  scrutiny  of  innocent, 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS       29 

questioning,  childish  eyes.  The  Baron  was  in  the 
habit  of  bringing  back  to  the  castle  from  his  visits 
to  the  capital  curious  company,  chiefly  women,  and 
many  a  half-opened  bud,  indigenous  to  the  soil,  had 
fallen  an  unwilling  victim  to  his  unbridled  lust. 
Not  that  he  carried  on  his  intrigues  openly  and 
unashamed.  It  was  simply  that  in  his  private  life 
he  refused  to  recognise  the  restraint  of  any  moral 
law,  and,  after  all,  what  he  did  was  only,  for  the 
most  part,  what  his  fathers  had  done  before  him. 
Such  amours  were  a  part  of  the  traditions  of  his 
house,  and  were  not  likely  to  excite  surprise  or 
comment,  unless  it  were  from  the  boy,  who  had 
occasionally  been  an  involuntary  witness  of  assaults 
on  virtue  and  heartrending  appeals  for  mercy. 

There  were  many  other  transactions  besides 
these  going  on  at  the  castle  that  were  not  meant 
for  his  eyes.  When  the  great  Napoleon's  call  to 
arms  roused  that  miserable  cat's-paw  of  European 
ambitions,  the  lacerated  country  of  Poland,  from  its 
death-throes,  mysterious  movements  were  set  on 
foot  in  every  quarter  where  the  peculiar  hiss  of 
Polish  speech  was  heard,  and  even  extended  so 
far  as  the  unadulterated  German  regions  of  East 
Prussia. 

Foreigners  with  slim,  supple  figures,  and  sharply- 
cut  features  used  to  arrive  at  Schranden  Castle, 
driving  through  the  village  at  express  speed  in 
small  carriages,  and  leave  again  in  the  middle  of 
the  night.  The  post  brought  innumerable  sealed 
packages  bearing  the  Russian  post-mark ;  and  for 


30        THE  SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

weeks  together  the  Baron's  study  was  locked  against 
all  intruders.  He  himself  became  taciturn  and 
pre-occupied,  going  about  like  a  man  in  a  dream, 
actually  permitting  the  stripes  and  weals  on  the 
backs  of  his  serfs  to  heal  and  fade  away. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Boleslav  migrated  to  his 
relations  in  Konigsberg.  Afterwards,  years  passed 
calmly  away,  years  in  which  he  grew  in  stature  and 
developed  in  mind  under  the  watchful  care  of  the 
widow  of  a  former  chancellor,  who  stood  in  the 
place  of  a  mother  to  him.  All  the  leading  families 
in  the  town  opened  their  houses  to  him,  and  by 
degrees  the  old  familiar  scenes  and  faces  of  his 
home  became  little  more  than  shadowy  memories. 
His  father's  rare  and  hurried  visits  only  demon- 
strated how  estranged  he  had  become  from  his  son, 
and  how  little  love  was  lost  between  them. 

Then  came  that  terrible  winter  in  which  the  war- 
fury  was  let  loose,  devastating  the  old  Prussian 
provinces,  and  the  victorious  march  of  Napoleonic 
cohorts  resounded  between  the  Weichsel  and  the 
Memel.  Scores  of  provincial  fugitives  sought 
refuge  from  the  invaders  within  the  walls  of 
Konigsberg.  Every  house,  from  cellar  to  garret, 
was  crammed  with  human  beings,  and  in  the 
streets  smouldered  the  bivouac-fires  of  the  soldiers 
who  were  camping  out  in  the  open  air. 

In  the  midst  of  war's  alarms,  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  beating  of  drums  and  bugle-blasts,  it  was 
vouchsafed  to  Boleslav  to  dream  for  the  first  time 
"love's  young  dream." 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS        31 

He  had  lately  turned  sixteen,  and  his  upper  lip 
was  already  shaded  with  a  pencilled  line  of  down. 
He  knew  Horace's  odes  to  Chloe  and  Lydia  by 
heart,  and  the  passion  which  Schiller,  who  had 
recently  died,  had  cherished  for  his  Laura  vras  no 
longer  a  mystery  to  him.  One  January  evening 
on  his  way  home  from  the  gymnasium,  as  he 
crossed  the  castle  square  where  Russian  and 
Prussian  orderlies  were  galloping  hither  and  thither, 
he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  pair  of  blue  eyes  which 
seemed  turned  on  him  with  an  expression  of 
friendly  inquiry.  He  blushed,  but  when  he  ven- 
tured to  look  round  the  eyes  had  vanished.  The 
same  thing  happened  again  the  next  evening.  Not 
till  it  happened  a  third  time  could  he  summon 
sufficient  courage  to  watch  more  carefully  and 
discover  that  the  eyes  belonged  to  a  fair  young 
face,  which  could  boast  besides  a  straight  little 
nose,  delicately  curved  lips,  which  naively  smiled 
at  him.  The  face  reminded  him  of  an  old  altar- 
piece  in  the  cathedral  representing  the  Virgin  Mary 
standing  in  a  garden  of  stiff  white  lilies  and  short- 
stalked  crimson  roses.  Of  something  else  it  re- 
minded him  too,  and  it  puzzled  him  to  think  what. 
He  was  racking  his  brains  to  remember,  when  a 
rosy  glow  tinged  the  girl's  fair  cheeks,  and  the 
charming  lips  opened. 

"  Boleslav ! "  they  lisped.     "  Is  it  you  ?  " 

Now,  of  course,  he  knew. 

"  Helene,  Helene !    You  !  "  he  exclaimed  joyously. 

Had  she  not  bashfully  evaded  him,  he  would  have 


32        THE  SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

embraced  her  then  and  there  in  the  middle  of 
the  crowded  square,  regardless  of  spectators  in 
the  shape  of  giggling  servant-maids  and  ribald 
soldiers.  They  withdrew  into  a  more  secluded 
street,  and  she  told  him  that  on  the  advance  of 
the  enemy  her  father  had  sent  her  for  the  sake 
of  safety  to  board  with  an  old  aunt,  who  had  set 
up  an  institution  for  the  daughters  of  poor  clergy- 
men. Here  she  was  very  happy,  and  was  making 
the  most  of  her  time,  studying  French  and  music, 
for  she  hoped  that  in  the  future  she  might  render 
her  father  assistance  with  his  school,  for  it  was 
not  likely  she  would  ever  marry. 

All  this  she  related  in  a  quiet,  old-fashioned  way, 
which  excited  his  respectful  admiration,  casting 
smiling  side-long  glances  at  him  as  she  talked. 
Of  his  father  she  could  not  tell  him  much ;  the  last 
time  she  had  met  him  he  had  looked  very  fierce. 
It  was  some  time  since  she  had  had  any  news  from 
home,  because  the  French  were  quartered  there; 
but  Felix  Merckel  was  in  Konigsberg,  and  she  saw 
him  now  and  then.  He  was  apprenticed  to  a 
corn  merchant,  and  thought  himself  quite  the  fine 
gentleman.  He  wasn't  likely  to  come  to  any  good 
though,  for  he  smoked  cigars  and  wore  loud  Turkish 
neckties.  She  ended  by  giving  him  leave  to  call 
on  her  at  her  aunt's  on  Friday — Friday  being  the 
day  for  visitors  at  the  institution. 

Then  she  tripped  lightly  away,  swaying  her 
slender  limbs  from  side  to  side,  and  as  he  watched 
her,  he  felt  as  if  the  Virgin  in  the  altar-piece  had 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS        33 

graciously  condescended  to  appear  to  him  in  the 
flesh,  and  was  now  returning  to  her  lilies  and 
crimson  roses. 

On  Friday  he  pulled  the  bell  of  the  institution 
and  was  admitted.  He  did  not  find  her,  it  is  true, 
among  lilies  and  roses,  but  there  were  some  plants 
of  fuchsia  and  geranium  in  the  room,  whose  faded, 
dusty  leaves  made  a  pretty  background  to  the 
girlish  figure.  The  glow  of  the  winter  sunset  came 
through  the  diamond-pane  windows,  and  spread  a 
rosy  veil  over  her  face.  Perhaps,  too,  the  pleasure 
of  meeting  an  old  friend  made  her  blush  a  little. 
The  aunt,  a  toothless,  antique  spinster,  with  patches 
and  a  powdered  toup6e,  exhausted  herself  with 
curtseying  and  compliments,  and  after  regaling  the 
distinguished  visitor  with  chocolate,  in  a  bowl  of 
superb  old  English  china,  vanished  as  noiselessly 
as  if  the  earth  had  swallowed  her  up.  That  was 
the  first  of  a  succession  of  blissful,  beatific 
Fridays. 

Troops  went  forth  to  battle  and  returned,  but  he 
did  not  even  notice  them.  The  thunder  of  cannons 
at  Eylau  reverberated  through  the  town,  but  he  was 
deaf,  and  heard  nothing.  It  often  seemed  to  him, 
as  he  looked  up  at  the  sky,  that  he  must  be  lying 
far  down  in  the  depths  of  the  blue  sea,  and  that 
the  world  in  which  he  had  lived  before  was  some- 
where a  long  way  off  on  the  other  side  of  the 
azure  empyrean.  But  that  he  still  in  reality  be- 
longed to  that  world,  he  was  forcibly  reminded 
one  Sunday  afternoon,  when  the  door  of  his  attic- 

C 


34        THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

chamber,  where  he  was  dreaming  over  his  books,  was 
boisterously  flung  open,  and  his  heaven  invaded. 

"  Hurrah !  my  boy ! "  cried  the  intruder,  with 
outstretched  arms.  "  I've  been  looking  for  you 
everywhere  for  a  year  past,  and  it's  been  as  diffi- 
cult as  searching  for  a  needle  in  a  bottle  of  hay. 
Even  now  I  mightn't  have  tracked  you  out  if  that 
pious  little  girl  Helene  had  not  given  me  a  hint 
of  your  whereabouts." 

It  was  the  harum-scarum  Felix,  and  the  Turkish 
necktie  of  which  the  beloved  had  spoken,  flapped 
over  either  shoulder  in  aggressive  fly-away  ends. 

Boleslav  returned  the  greeting  more  heartily  than 
a  few  weeks  ago  he  would  have  thought  possible; 
since  his  meeting  with  Helene,  the  old  home  and 
the  old  life  had  come  back  to  him  very  distinctly, 
and  his  heart  felt  drawn  to  this  once  inseparable 
friend  of  his  boyhood. 

Felix  did  not  stand  on  ceremony,  but  threw  him- 
self on  the  sofa,  and  as  he  stretched  his  legs  on 
the  leather  cushions  looked  round  him  in  amazed 
admiration.  The  room  seemed  to  him  the  embodi- 
ment of  luxury  and  magnificence. 

"You  are  domiciled  here  like  a  prince  in  the 
'Arabian  Nights,'"  he  exclaimed;  "that's  what 
comes  of  being  born  a  Junker,  I  suppose.  I  wish 
I  was.  Such  as  we  have  to  rough  it,  and " 

He  paused  in  order  to  shoot  through  his  front 
teeth  a  stream  of  dark-brown  saliva,  a  habit  he 
had  learnt  from  the  sailors  on  the  quays.  After 
this,  he  frequently  visited  Boleslav's  sequestered 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS        35 

retreat,  devoured  the  dainties  his  aunt  sent  up  to 
him,  borrowed  money  and  books,  and  initiated  him 
in  the  mysteries  of  life  at  the  water's  edge.  In 
short,  he  conducted  himself  as  do  most  "men  of 
the  world "  between  fifteen  and  nineteen  years  of 
age,  who  are  apt  to  gain  an  ascendency  over  deeper 
and  more  thoughtful  natures  than  their  own. 

Boleslav  sometimes  thought  of  making  him  his 
confidant  in  his  love  affair,  but  never,  when  it  came 
to  the  point,  could  find  the  right  words  in  which 
to  express  himself.  So  his  secret  remained,  as  he 
thought,  buried  in  his  heart  of  hearts.  But  one 
day  Felix  astounded  him  by  saying — 

"  Don't  think  I  am  blind !  I  have  discovered 
some  time  ago  that  you  are  head  over  heels  in  love 
with  a  certain  little  prude.  She's  pretty  enough, 
but  a  bit  too  good  for  me." 

The  blood  mounted  swiftly  and  angrily  to  Bole- 
slav's  brow,  and  he  demanded  with  dignity  that 
henceforth  no  disrespectful  word  be  spoken  of  the 
fair  Helene  in  his  presence.  And  Felix,  though  he 
made  a  contemptuous  grimace,  was  careful  not  to 
offend  again  by  any  jibing  allusion  to  his  love. 

Later  he  announced  his  intention  of  enlisting 
in  the  English  navy  as  a  midshipman,  that  he  might 
be  "  revenged  on  the  tyrant  of  his  downtrodden 
Fatherland,"  as  he  expressed  it,  and  Boleslav  looked 
up  to  him  in  consequence  with  a  profounder  rever- 
ence than  ever. 

Then  a  day  came  when  this  friend  passed  him  in 
the  street  without  bestowing  on  him  a  shake  of  the 


36        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

hand,  or  even  a  nod.  Only  a  scornful  shrug  of  the 
shoulders  indicated  that  he  had  seen  him  at  all. 
Utterly  disconcerted,  he  gazed  after  the  rapidly 
disappearing  figure  that  seemed  anxious  to  get 
out  of  his  way  as  quickly  as  possible. 

What  could  be  the  meaning  of  this  extraordinary 
behaviour  ?  The  same  evening,  with  tears  pouring 
down  his  face,  he  wrote  asking  for  an  explanation. 
Before  there  was  time  for  an  answer,  a  messenger 
brought  him  a  parcel  of  books  and  a  note  that  ran 
as  follows : — 

"  To  His  Hochgeboren  Herrn 

Boleslav  von  Schranden. 

11  Having  become  apprised  of  events  that  have 
recently  taken  place  in  Schranden,  I  consider  that 
it  would  be  beneath  my  dignity,  and  contrary  to  all 
my  patriotic  principles,  to  continue  our  intercourse. 
The  books  you  have  lent  me  are  therefore  returned. 
The  money  will  follow  in  due  course  as  soon  as  I 
have  earned  the  same.  Meanwhile  the  messenger 
will  hand  you  five  silver  groschens. — In  humble 
submission,  your  Hochgeboren's  obedient  servant, 

"  FELIX  MERCKEL." 

Boleslav  felt  as  if  some  one  had  struck  him  a  blow 
from  behind.  He  was  so  bitterly  humiliated  that 
for  a  whole  day  he  daren't  look  any  human  being 
in  the  face.  At  last  he  resolved  to  tell  Helene  of 
his  trouble,  in  the  hope  that  she  might  be  able  to 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS        37 

give  him  tidings  that  would  at  least  end  his  fearful 
suspense.  She  had  forbidden  him  to  speak  to  her 
in  the  street,  because  she  considered  such  meetings 
out  of  doors  unnecessary  and  improper,  as  he  was 
allowed  to  call  at  the  institution.  Yet,  in  spite  of 
her  veto,  he  waylaid  her  and  showed  her  Felix's 
letter.  As  usual,  she  smiled  sweetly  and  consolingly, 
but  could  throw  little  light  on  the  matter.  The  last 
time  she  had  heard  from  her  father,  the  letter  had 
been  full  of  nothing  but  the  unfortunate  engagement 
which  had  taken  place  in  the  wood  near  Schranden, 
when  the  Prussian  soldiers  had  been  completely 
routed.  That  had  been  in  all  the  newspapers. 
There  was  only  one  means  of  learning  the  whole 
truth.  Helene  could  walk  along  by  the  river's 
bank,  where  the  clerks  from  the  great  warehouses 
lounged  away  their  spare  time,  and  make  inquiries 
of  Felix.  This  she  consented  to  do,  though  reluc- 
tantly ;  and  he,  in  a  fever  of  anxiety,  waited  for  her 
return  on  one  of  the  bridges. 

"He  does  think  too  much  of  himself!"  she  said, 
as  she  came  back  slowly  from  her  errand,  the  colour 
deepening  in  her  cheeks.  "And  so  they  all  do, 
these  merchants'  clerks.  It's  not  likely  that  I  should 
allow  any  of  them  to  make  love  to  me ! " 

She  smiled,  and  hid  her  burning  face  in  the  blue 
silk  reticule  she  always  carried. 

"  But  you  needn't  mind  him,  dear  Boleslav.  Since 
he  has  determined  to  go  as  a  midshipman,  he  has 
got  love  for  the  Fatherland  on  the  brain." 

"  How  have  I  interfered  with  his  love  for  the 


38         THE   SINS    OF  THE    FATHERS 

Fatherland  ?  "  asked  Boleslav.  "  Don't  I  abominate 
that  bloodhound  Bonaparte  as  much  as  he  does  ?  " 

Helene  was  silent,  and  gathered  the  folds  of  her 
cloak  closer  about  her  slender  limbs,  to  keep  out  the 
bitter  winter  wind.  Then  she  continued — 

"You  may  rely  on  me.  I  will  never  bear  a 
grudge  against  you  for  it." 

"  For  what  ?     Good  God,  tell  me  at  once  !  " 

And  then  at  last  the  mystery  was  cleared  up. 

"You  mustn't  take  it  too  much  to  heart,  dearest 
Boleslav.  At  home  in  the  village  they  all  say  that 
your  father  showed  the  French  the  path  by  the 
Cats'  Bridge  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  so  that 
they  might  surprise  the  Prussians ;  and  that  gipsy- 
looking  Regina,  the  carpenter's  daughter — you  re- 
member the  little  curly -headed  thing  who  was  at 
school  with  you  and  me — she  confessed  it,  because 
it  was  she  who  really  led  the  way.  And  now  the 
people  call  your  father  the  betrayer  of  his  country, 
and  refuse  to  work  for  him  any  more,  and  have 
burnt  down  his  house." 

Ah !  so  that  was  it.  Now  he  knew  all.  In 
that  hour  his  life's  budding  joys  and  hopes  were 
withered  like  the  blossoms  of  a  tree  struck  by 
lightning  in  May.  How  intolerable  were  these 
memories  of  darkest  hours  of  silent  torture — hours 
in  which  he  was  oppressed  with  a  sense  of  crime, 
and  when  shame  literally  consumed  him ! 

It  was  some  time  before  the  news  of  the  betrayal 
was  openly  spoken  about  in  Konigsberg.  Months 
passed  before  the  first  signs  that  it  had  become 


THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS        39 

known  manifested  themselves,  and  during  these 
months  his  whole  character  underwent  a  complete 
change. 

His  glance  became  shifty  and  uneasy,  his  colour 
often  forsook  him.  Shy  and  awkward  he  withdrew 
himself  more  and  more  from  society,  and  frequented 
none  of  his  old  haunts.  He  would  start  and  tremble 
at  every  word  unexpectedly  addressed  to  him.  Then 
came  days  when  the  masters  at  the  gymnasium  began 
to  look  askance  at  him,  and  the  pupils  to  shun  him 
— days  in  which  his  aunt  kept  her  room  to  escape 
his  morning  greeting,  and  the  family  sat  in  conclave 
behind  closed  doors,  when  the  servants  began  to  set 
his  orders  at  defiance,  and  from  time  to  time  spat  on 
the  ground  as  they  passed  his  door. 

So  he  watched  it  creeping  on,  nearer  and  nearer, 
the  cold,  clammy  monster,  that,  snake-like,  was  to 
bind  his  limbs  and  freeze  the  blood  in  his  veins. 
He  watched  its  v  wriggling  progress,  heard  the 
gloating  hiss  of  its  approach,  and  defenceless, 
paralysed,  he  stared  it  stonily  in  the  face,  lacking 
the  courage  to  cry  out,  or  even  to  moan. 

He  had  lost  Helene  too.  Not  through  any  fault 
of  hers.  She  had  still  allowed  him  to  go  on  pulling 
the  institution  bell  on  Fridays  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened, and  had  been  friendly  as  ever,  and  had  even 
tried  to  distract  his  thoughts  from  the  painful  subject 
on  which  they  incessantly  brooded,  with  mild  little 
jokes.  But  was  it  because  he  was  himself  so  altered 
that  he  could  only  see  the  rest  of  the  world  through 
a  distorting  mist  of  shame,  or  had  she  really,  since 


40        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

that  day  of  the  revelation,  adopted  a  tone  of  pitying 
compassion  towards  him  ?  Anyhow,  he  became 
more  and  more  embarrassed  in  her  presence,  and 
dared  not  meet  her  eye. 

One  day,  instead  of  Helene,  the  old  schoolmistress 
received  him  alone.  She  curtseyed  and  grinned  as 
usual,  and  assured  him,  a  hundred  times  at  least, 
that  she  was  his  humblest  servant;  but  what  she 
proceeded  to  unfold  seemed  to  Boleslav  the  last 
straw.  Her  dear  nephew,  the  Herr  Pastor,  she 
stuttered,  thought  it  best  that  the  intimacy  between 
his  daughter  and  the  young  nobleman  should  ter- 
minate, and  in  order  that  there  should  be  no  further 
temptation  to  continue  it,  had  decided  to  remove 
her  instantly  from  the  town  of  Konigsberg.  A  note 
sealed  with  blue  sealing-wax  contained  Helene's 
farewell : — 

"  DEAR,  DEAR  BOLESLAV, — My  father  commands 
me  to  give  up  my  friendship  with  you.  I  must  obey 
him.  Good-bye.  I  shall  always  be  fond  of  you — 

— always.     I  swear  it.     Your 

"HELENE." 

Six  hastily  scribbled  lines !  Were  these  to  be 
his  food  and  drink  through  a  life  of  longing  and 
renunciation  ?  Yet  had  he  any  right  to  expect 
more  ?  Had  she  not  promised  to  be  true,  and  to 
hold  to  him  though  every  one  else  had  cast  him  off? 
From  that  time  forward  she  became  for  him  trans- 
figured and  a  saint.  Her  face  became  more  than 
ever  identified  in  his  imagination  with  that  of  the 


Madonna  he  had  seen  in  the  Cathedral,  and  when- 
ever he  pictured  her  he  beheld  her  adorned  with  an 
aureole,  and  surrounded  by  lilies  and  roses. 

Had  it  not  been  for  his  extreme  youth,  energy" 
and  self-reliance  might  possibly  have  helped  him 
over  the  abyss  of  enervating  grief;  but  a  habit  of 
childlike  respect,  a  latent  instinct  of  veneration, 
put  the  idea  of  asking  his  father  to  explain  what 
had  happened,  much  less  of  calling  him  to  account 
for  it,  out  of  the  question.  It  was  his  unexpected 
appearance  on  the  scene  that  at  last  roused  in  him 
a  spirit  of  revolt. 

He  was  now  seventeen,  and  would  have  been 
ready  to  pass  into  the  university,  even  if  the  authori- 
ties of  the  gymnasium  had  not  repeatedly  hinted 
that  his  withdrawal  would  be  in  every  way  desir- 
able. Even  his  kindly  aunt,  who  had  carefully 
avoided  referring  to  the  rumour  through  which  she 
herself  suffered  keenly,  had,  as  mercifully  as  she 
knew  how,  spoken  to  him  about  the  advisability  of 
his  going  somewhere  else  to  finish  his  studies. 

Under  other  circumstances,  his  pride,  his  zeal  for 
fair  play  and  his  own  honour,  would  have  rebelled 
against  this  unjust  dismissal.  But  now,  in  his  un- 
speakable bitterness,  he  cherished  only  one  wish,  and 
that  was  to  hide  away  somewhere  with  his  disgrace, 
and  be  seen  by  no  human  eye. 

And  in  this  mood  he  stood  one  day  face  to  face 
with  his  father. 

The  baron  had  come  to  town,  to  call  in  the  aid  of 
the  law  in  dealing  with  his  rebellious  peasants,  but 


42        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

had  found  every  door  shut  in  his  face.  His  fury 
knew  no  bounds ;  he  appeared  to  have  lost  all  con- 
trol over  himself,  and  his  demeanour  was  one  of 
desperate  defiance. 

At  the  sight  of  the  short,  stubborn  figure,  the 
bull-neck  and  the  grey,  fiery  eyes  rolling  in  their  red 
sockets,  Boleslav  was  seized  with  the  old  boyish  ter- 
ror. He  had  to  pull  himself  together  with  a  tre- 
mendous effort  before  he  could  bring  the  fatal  ques- 
tion over  his  lips. 

"Father,  is  it  true  what  people  are  saying, 
that " 

Suspicion  blazed  up  in  the  small  grey  eyes. 

"Eh  ? — what  are  people  saying  ?"  he  interrupted. 

"That  it  was  through  you  that  the  French  found 
out  the  path  by  the  Cats'  Bridge." 

"And  what  if  it  was  through  me,  you  Hottentot  ? 
What  if  I  did  avenge  the  wrongs  of  the  down- 
trampled  Pole  on  this  pack  of  cowardly  Russian 
thieves?  These  hulking,  stupid,  lazy  serfs,  who 
would  only  get  their  deserts  if  the  great  Napoleon 
extirpated  them  altogether  from  off  the  face  of  the 
earth.  Don't  gape  at  me  like  that,  clown!  What  I 
did  was  done  as  a  sacred  duty.  Heavily  chained, 
scourged  human  beings  cried  out  imploringly  to  me, 
'Save  us,  save  us!'  I  could  not  save  them,  it  is 
true ;  that  work  was  reserved  for  a  greater  than  I — 
but  I  could  at  least  help,  help  him,  who  like  an 
avenging  angel  swept  over  Europe  and  laid  it  waste 
— help  to  annihilate  a  handful  of  ruffians  I  saw 
providentially  delivered  into  my  hand." 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS       43 

As  he  held  forth  thus,  his  short  figure  seemed 
to  grow.  His  eyes  flashed  fire.  The  demon  of 
fanaticism  that  so  strongly  resembles  inspiration, 
its  angelic  sister,  enveloped  him  in  its  red-hot, 
glowing  mantle. 

Boleslav  shrank  away,  trembling.  He  felt  keenly, 
how  completely  every  tie  between  him  and  this  man 
was  now  severed. 

"Let  them  whisper,  and  nudge  each  other  as  I 
pass,"  he  continued,  "and  make  faces;  what  the 
devil  do  I  care  ?  They  daren't  do  it  so  long  as  the 
Corsican  lion  held  them  in  his  claws.  And  after 
ail,  who  is  to  prove  it  against  me  ?  If  it  hadn't 
been  for  that  fool  Regina,  who  let  her  father  hunt 
her  down  in  the  Bockshorn,  every  one  would  natu- 
rally  have  supposed  that  General  Latour,  with  his 
inventive  brain,  had  found  out  the  way  over  the 
river  and  through  the  wood  of  his  own  accord.  As 
it  is,  the  wretches  are  all  at  my  throat.  .  ,  .  The 
peasants  are  no  longer  to  be  brought  to  heel  with 
the  knout.  They've  always  been  so  fond  of  me, 
you  see.  If  what  the  papers  say  is  true,  and  the 
king  is  willing  to  let  the  mutiny  continue,  they'll 
lynch  me,  as  sure  as  fate.  You  will  have  good 
cause  to  congratulate  yourself  on  your  succession, 
my  boy ! " 

Those  were  the  last  words  his  father  had  ever 
spoken  to  him,  for  the  conversation  which  had  taken 
place  in  his  own  study,  was  interrupted  at  this  point 
by  the  entrance  of  his  aunt. 

The  aristocratic  old  lady  recoiled  from  the  touch 


44        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

of  the  Baron's  red  muscular  hand  as  from  that  of 
some  poisonous  reptile.  But  mastering  her  repug- 
nance, she  asked  for  a  few  minutes'  private  talk  with 
him. 

What  decision  they  came  to  over  his  future  he 
was  never  to  know,  for  even  before  the  short  inter- 
view had  elapsed,  his  former  life  already  lay  behind 
him  like  a  nightmare,  and  he  stood  in  the  street  and 
reflected  through  which  of  the  city-gates  he  should 
wander  out  into  the  wide  world.  Finally,  the  goal 
of  his  travels  proved  to  be  a  small  property  in  a 
remote  corner  of  Lithuania,  where  he  found  rest  in 
hard  work,  and  an  opportunity  of  fitting  himself 
for  the  duties  of  a  landed  proprietor. 

Years  went  by.  For  him  they  meant  unremitting 
labour  for  his  daily  bread — a  struggle  for  existence 
full  of  hardships,  which,  however,  could  be  engaged 
in  without  shame,  or  any  wounding  of  his  amour 
propre.  For  now  he  no  longer  bore  the  abhorred 
name  of  his  fathers.  If  at  the  same  time  he  only 
could  have  cast  off,  like  a  soiled  garment,  the  host 
of  bitter  recollections  with  which  it  was  associated, 
he  would  have  been  happier.  But  consciousness  of 
the  infamy  that  clung  to  the  discarded  name  re- 
mained ever  present.  Love  for  his  country,  which 
hitherto  had  only  slumbered  in  his  heart,  now 
bounded  into  full  life.  The  passion  of  patriotism 
grew  and  grew,  till  it  became  a  tormenting  demon 
which  scourged  him  with  scorpions,  drove  the  blood 
from  his  face,  the  sleep  from  his  eyes,  and  heaped 
the  guilt  of  Prussia's  misfortunes  on  his  shoulders. 


THE  SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS       45 

Only  once  during  this  time  did  news  of  his  home 
reach  him.  That  was  when  he  read  in  a  Konigs- 
berg  news-sheet  that  Schranden  Castle,  which  had 
enjoyed  such  an  unenviable  notoriety  in  the  winter 
of  1807,  had  been  burned  down  with  all  its  outlying 
buildings.  Then  he  had  folded  his  hands,  and  a 
sound  had  escaped  his  lips  like  a  prayer  of  thanks- 
giving. 

Expiation  !  expiation !  must  be  the  watchword  of 
his  soul. 

But  as  yet  nothing  could  be  expiated.  Still 
the  unhappy  Fatherland  lay  crushed  beneath  the 
heel  of  the  dictator.  Then  came  the  downfall  of 
the  Great  Army  on  the  snow-covered  plains  of 
Eastern  Europe,  and  the  rising  of  Prussia  quickly 
followed. 

Now  the  hour  had  come.  His  hour !  He  would 
die — give  his  life  for  the  Fatherland,  and  expiate 
his  father's  sin  with  his  own  blood 

In  the  volunteer  Jager  Baumgart,  who  rode  into 
Konigsberg  on  the  5th  of  March  1813,  no  one  recog- 
nised the  youthful  Baron  von  Schranden,  who,  just 
five  years  before,  had  fled  from  the  town  unable  to 
face  the  dishonour  brought  upon  his  name ;  and 
there  were  many  now  hailing  him  with  shouts  and 
cheers  of  welcome,  who  then  would  have  driven 
him  out  with  stones  and  brickbats. 

He  attached  himself  to  a  cluster  of  intrepid  sons 
of  the  soil,  from  whose  mouths  the  dialect  of  his 
lost  home  fell  familiarly  and  musically  on  his  ear. 
He  became  their  friend  and  their  leader,  till  suddenly 


46        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

a  well-known  face  cropped  up  in  the  camp,  the  sight 
of  which  immediately  drove  Lieutenant  Baumgart 
out  of  it. 

Felix  Merckel,  he  knew  too  well,  would  not  have 
hesitated  to  betray  him  to  his  comrades,  and  to  in- 
form them  who  it  was  that  led  them  to  battle. 

What  followed  was  like  a  ghastly  confused  phan- 
tasmagoria, in  which  bloodshed,  salvoes,  and  death- 
rattles  played  their  part.  Why  had  he  not  died  ? 
How  had  he  lived  through  it  ?  These  were  the 
questions  he  asked  himself  on  first  regaining  con- 
sciousness and  opening  his  eyes  on  the  world,  after 
lying  for  months  between  life  and  death.  For  him, 
then,  no  French  sabre  had  been  sharpened,  no 
French  bullet  fired. 

The  one  complete  atonement  his  conscience  told 
him  it  was  in  his  power  to  make  had  been  denied 
him.  Was  a  heavier  one  awaiting  him  now,  as  he 
drew  near  the  dusky  woodlands  of  his  birthplace 
in  the  dim,  grey  dawn  of  day  ? 


CHAPTER  IV 

IT  was  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  already  the 
rays  of  the  sun  had  strengthened,  as  Boleslav  left 
the  wild  tangle  of  the  forest  behind  him,  and  beheld 
his  home  stretched  out  at  his  feet. 

He  had  not  set  eyes  on  it  for  ten  years.  His 
first  fierce  impulse  now  was  to  shake  his  fist  at  the 
village  which  lay  there  so  hypocritically  idyllic  in 
the  calm  of  early  morning,  with  its  white  toy  cot- 
tages set  in  bowrrs  of  green  bushes,  its  curls  ol 
blue-grey  smoke,  and  opalescent  slate  church  spire 
rising  peacefully  against  the  sky. 

Beyond  were  the  magnificent  groups  of  old  trees 
with  dark,  almost  black  foliage  and  yellowish  trunks 
belonging  to  the  Castle  park,  which  sloped  away  on 
the  eastern  side  of  the  hill.  But  the  Castle  itself, 
that  had  crowned  the  hill  with  its  shining  battle- 
men  ted  twin-towers,  and  had  queened  the  landscape 
far  and  wide — where  was  it  ?  Had  the  earth  opened 
and  swallowed  the  imposing  structure  whole  ?  For 
a  moment  he  was  startled  and  shocked  at  its  total 
disappearance.  Then  he  remembered.  How  stupid 
it  was  to  have  forgotten  !  They  had  burnt  it  down, 
razed  it  to  the  ground. 

Many  and  many  a  time  he  had  thought  of  that 

47 


48        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

deed  of  violence,  which  had  laid  waste  the  inherit- 
ance of  his  fathers,  with  a  sort  of  grim  satisfaction. 
But  now,  when  he  saw  with  his  bodily  eyes  the 
scene  of  the  conflagration,  he  felt  sullen  resentment 
rise  in  his  heart. 

"  Incendiaries  !  Accursed  incendiaries  ! "  he  cried, 
and  once  more  shook  his  fist  at  the  homesteads  of 
his  enemies.  His  enemies?  Yes,  in  the  flash  of 
a  moment  it  seemed  clearly  demonstrated  that  his 
father's  enemies  must  be  his  enemies.  Had  he  not 
inherited  them,  together  with  these  woods  and  fertile 
valleys,  with  yonder  smoked,  blackened  heap  of 
ruins  (he  now  noticed  it  for  the  first  time)  that 
reared  itself  like  the  mighty  hand  of  a  giant  calling 
down  the  wrath  of  Heaven — together  with  that 
awful  crime,  which  no  one  on  earth  hated  more 
than  he  did,  from  which  no  one  had  suffered  as  he 
had  suffered.  .  .  .  And  though,  instead  of  filial  love, 
he  had  cherished  nothing  but  a  sensation  of  paralys- 
ing fear  towards  his  father,  though  for  years  he  had 
deliberately  cut  himself  adrift  from  ties  of  kindred, 
and  the  performance  of  duties  that  custom  and 
civilisation  impose  on  those  who  are  destined  to 
hand  down  an  ancient  name  and  inherit  vast  estates 
— in  spite  of  it  all,  the  fact  remained  that  it  was  his 
father's  blood  flowing  in  his  veins,  and  he  felt  it 
at  this  moment  coursing  through  them  tumultuously, 
and  rising  in  hot  anger  at  the  wrong  that  had  been 
done  his  race. 

A  wild  gleam  shone  in  his  eyes  as  he  fumbled 
with  his  left  hand  for  the  leather  case  strung  over 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS       49 

his  shoulder,  from  which  obtruded  the  burnished 
knobs  of  a  pair  of  cavalry  pistols. 

"  Won't  bury  him  ! "  he  murmured  through  his 
clenched  teeth,  clasping  the  pistols  close.  "Won't 
bury  him,  indeed !  We  shall  see ! "  And  with  a 
bitter,  mirthless  laugh,  he  walked  resolutely  down 
into  the  village. 

The  one  long  straggling  street  lay  before  him, 
deserted  and  basking  in  the  brilliant  sunshine. 
The  cart-ruts  in  the  rich  clay  soil  shone  as  if  they 
had  been  glazed;  bottle-glass  and  rags  from  old 
besoms  filled  the  interstices  to  prevent  the  accu- 
mulation of  stones.  On  either  side  of  the  road  stood 
the  thatched  cottages  of  the  peasants,  shaded  by 
limes  and  chestnuts,  some  of  whose  leaves  were 
even  now  beginning  to  look  autumnally  sere  and 
yellow.  These  peasants  had  formerly  been  under 
the  jurisdiction  of  the  Castle,  and  only  since  the 
new  rural  laws  came  into  force  had  been  relieved 
of  their  service  and  joined  the  freemen. 

Here  and  there  he  saw  a  new  fence  painted  in 
glaring  colours,  as  if  the  owner  wished  to  mark  off 
his  recently  acquired  possession  from  the  rest  of 
the  inhabited  globe.  In  other  respects  the  new 
regime  had  left  everything  much  the  same.  Sun- 
flowers and  herbs  bloomed  in  the  front  gardens  as 
they  had  always  done;  damp  mattresses  hung  out 
of  the  windows  to  air  just  as  of  old.  Only  the 
number  of  taverns  had  increased.  Boleslav  counted 
three,  whereas  once  the  Black  Eagle  had  reigned 
supreme  and  met  all  the  requirements  of  the  place. 

D 


50        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

Nearer  the  church  were  the  white  houses  of  the 
free  artisans,  burghers  as  they  were  called,  who 
paid  to  the  Castle  ground-rent,  and  therefore  en- 
joyed the  privilege  of  cultivating  their  own  vegetable 
plots  as  they  pleased.  There  were  a  couple  of 
blacksmiths  with  the  sign  of  a  horseshoe  over  the 
entrance  of  their  forges,  two  or  three  cobblers,  a 
wheelwright,  a  basketmaker,  and  a 

He  paused  and  let  his  eyes  rest  on  a  dilapidated 
tumble-down  hovel,  the  most  wretched  in  the  whole 
row.  A  dirty  green  shield  hung  over  the  door,  bear- 
ing the  almost  obliterated  inscription — 

"HANS   HACKELBERG, 
CARPENTER  AND  PARISH   UNDERTAKER." 

A  coffin,  also  painted  green,  supported  by  pillars, 
loomed  down  on  the  neglected  garden,  and  gave  to 
those  who  couldn't  read,  the  necessary  information. 
At  the  sight  of  it  an  incident  long  forgotten  occurred 
to  Boleslav  with  extraordinary  distinctness.  He 
saw  again  a  little  untidy  girl  with  great,  dark,  tear- 
ful eyes  and  a  tangled  cloud  of  black,  curly  hair 
flying  about  her  face  and  shoulders  in  wild  dishevel- 
ment.  She  had  clung  to  this  garden  gate  with  one 
hand,  while  with  the  other  she  held  the  corner  of 
her  blue  print  pinafore  convulsively  pressed  against 
her  bosom.  A  pack  of  village  hobbledehoys  were 
pelting  her  with  sticks  and  stones.  He  was  not 
much  taller  than  she  was,  but  at  his  approach  the 
little  crowd  made  way  for  him,  shy  and  awestruck. 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS        51 

For  he  was  the  "young  Junker"  who  had  only  to 
lift  his  finger,  they  thought,  to  bring  down  blessings 
or  curses  on  their  heads. 

"What  is  going  on  here  ?  "  he  had  asked,  where- 
upon the  persecuted  child  had  humbly  advanced, 
and  opened  her  pinafore  just  wide  enough  for  him  to 
get  a  glimpse  inside. 

"Beasts!  They  wanted  to  take  it  away  from 
me ! "  she  had  exclaimed,  lifting  her  wet  eyes  to 
his,  blazing  with  indignation. 

A  poor  unfledged  sparrow,  which  somehow  or  other 
had  fallen  out  of  the  nest,  reposed  in  the  pinafore. 

"  Give  it  to  me,"  he  had  demanded,  for  he  loved 
young  birds;  and  obediently  she  had  held  out  her 
pinafore  for  him  to  snatch  it  away.  As  beseemed 
a  lordling,  he  had  not  said  thank  you,  or  troubled 
himself  further  about  the  giver. 

And  that  was  she — the  girl  who,  it  was  said,  had 
shown  the  French  the  path  by  the  Cats'  Bridge,  and 
had  lived  with  his  father  as  his  mistress  to  the  last. 

Why  had  he  defended  her  then?  Why  had  he 
prevented  the  pack  hunting  her  down  ?  One  blow 
on  the  forehead  from  a  stone  might  then  and  there 
have  cut  short  her  mischievous  career ! 

He  walked  on.  Now  and  then  a  dull,  dirty  face 
peered  at  him  curiously  through  the  small,  dark 
window-panes,  or  a  cur  barked.  But  he  passed 
unmolested  through  the  village.  It  was  unlikely 
enough  that  any  one  would  recognise  him.  The 
parsonage  came  in  view  with  its  shady  veranda, 
trim  flower-beds,  and  nut-trees.  It  looked  as  quiet 


52        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

and  peaceful  as  on  that  morning  long  ago,  when, 
with  a  sigh  of  relief  at  escaping  from  the  pastor's 
stern  rule,  he  had  seen  it  for  the  last  time  from  the 
post-chaise,  and  Helene  had  waved  him  farewell 
with  her  little  cambric  handkerchief.  With  lower- 
ing brow  he  now  took  a  short  cut  that  he  might 
avoid  passing  it.  It  seemed  as  if  Helene  must  still 
be  standing  on  the  lawn  waving  her  handkerchief. 
But  what  if  she  had  been  there?  It  would  have 
been  impossible  for  him  to  go  to  her.  A  path  on 
his  left  led  down  to  the  river,  which  divided  the 
Castle  domain  from  the  villagers'  territory.  As  he 
turned  into  it  he  became  aware  of  the  frightful 
ravages  the  fire  had  made.  Instead  of  the  long  line 
of  barns  and  stables  which  had  been  ranged  on  this 
side  of  the  river  stood  a  row  of  ruins,  falling  walls 
and  scorched  beams,  grown  over  with  celandine  and 
valerian.  Beyond  could  be  seen,  through  gaps  in 
the  walls,  the  courtyard,  now  a  weedy,  grass-grown 
rubbish  heap,  and  on  the  summit  of  the  hill,  behind 
a  lattice  formed  of  the  leafless  branches  of  dead 
elms,  a  black  ruined  mass  of  fantastically  jagged 
brickwork — all  that  remained  of  the  once  proud 
Castle. 

His  arms  fell  heavily  to  his  sides.  A  sound 
escaped  him  like  a  sob,  a  sob  for  vengeance. 

He  dragged  his  way  laboriously  along  the  banks 
of  the  liver  to  the  drawbridge,  which  was  the  main 
mode  of  access  to  the  island ;  for,  since  his  grand- 
father's time,  the  whole  of  the  Castle  grounds  had 
been,  by  means  of  an  aqueduct,  practically  con- 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS        53 

verted  into  an  island.  The  drawbridge,  at  least, 
was  still  en  evidence.  It  looked  like  a  remnant  of 
antiquity  as  it  hung  with  its  grey  projecting  timbers 
on  its  black,  clumsy  buttresses,  at  the  foot  of  which 
the  ripples  broke  with  a  gurgling  sound.  The  rusty 
chains  were  tightened,  and  between  terra  firma 
and  the  floating  edge  of  the  bridge  was  a  space  of 
about  three  feet,  which  could  be  jumped  with  ease. 
Some  one  had  evidently  tried  to  draw  it  up,  and 
failed  in  the  effort. 

Boleslav  sprang  over  and  passed  through  the 
stone  gateway,  whose  nail-studded  doors,  half- 
burnt,  were  thrown  back  on  their  hinges.  Sud- 
denly he  heard  a  sharp  clicking  sound  at  his  feet 
resembling  the  snap  of  a  bowstring.  He  stopped, 
and  saw,  to  his  horror,  the  iron  semicircle  of  a 
fox-trap  half-buried  in  the  rubbish,  and  carefully 
covered  with  birch- broom.  The  long  pointed  teeth 
of  the  iron  jaw  had  closed  on  each  other  in  a 
tenacious  grip.  By  a  miracle  he  had  escaped  an 
accident  which  might  have  laid  him  up  for  many 
weeks. 

Feeling  the  ground  with  his  stick,  he  pursued 
his  way  more  cautiously  through  the  refuse  and 
litter,  amongst  which  he  came  across  occasionally 
a  disused  waggon  or  the  rotten  barrel  of  a  brandy 
cask  held  together  by  iron  hoops.  He  went  on,  up 
the  hill  to  the  Castle.  The  path  was  overgrown 
with  brambles  as  tall  as  himself,  and  again  he  came 
on  traps,  their  wide  open  maws  greedily  eager  to 
seize  him  by  the  leg.  The  whole  place  seemed 


54        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

strewn  with  them — the  only  signs  of  civilisation 
he  had  as  yet  encountered. 

The  Castle  lay  before  him,  with  yawning  window- 
frames  and  sundered  walls,  a  complete  ruin.  Piles 
of  fallen  tiles  and  plaster,  between  which  rank  grass 
and  weeds  had  sprung  up,  formed  a  mound  round 
its  foundations.  The  vestibule,  with  its  drooping 
rafters,  had  become  a  perfect  bower  of  creepers 
and  evergreens,  whose  luxuriant  growth  seemed 
almost  impenetrable.  A  white  tablet  hung  among 
the  leaves,  on  which,  in  his  father's  handwriting, 
were  the  words,  "  Caution  to  trespassers" 

He  shuddered  at  this,  the  first  trace  he  had  seen 
for  six  years  of  the  man  to  whom  he  owed  his 
existence,  and  whom  he  had  now  come  to  bury. 

In  a  few  moments  he  would  be  standing  probably 
beside  his  corpse. 

But  how  was  he  to  find  it?  What  resting- 
place  could  his  father  have  found  here  while  yet 
alive  ? 

No  door  or  unbroken  window,  no  signs  of  a 
human  habitation,  were  visible  amidst  all  this  fearful 
wreckage.  He  turned,  and  walked  slowly  the  length 
of  the  Castle  fa£ade,  past  the  towers  which  flanked 
the  gabled  roof;  here  over  the  blackened  stone- 
work the  ivy  had  begun  to  grow  afresh,  enshrouding 
it  in  a  peaceful  melancholy.  From  this  point  his 
eye  caught  a  vista  of  the  park,  with  its  giant  timber 
and  wealth  of  undergrowth.  And  then  he  saw  a 
few  yards  off,  on  the  grass-plot  where  once  had 
stood  the  statue  of  the  goddess  Diana,  of  which 


THE   SINS  OF  THE   FATHERS        55 

nothing  now  was  left  but  the  shattered  fragments  and 
pedestal,  a  woman.  ...  A  slender,  strongly-built 
woman,  with  long  plaits  of  dark  curling  hair  hang- 
ing down  her  back.  Her  primitive  costume  consisted 
of  a  red  petticoat  and  a  chemise.  She  was  digging 
energetically  with  a  heavy  spade  in  the  dark  rich 
soil,  and  was  apparently  too  engrossed  to  notice  his 
approach.  She  set  her  naked  foot  at  regular  inter- 
vals, as  if  beating  time  on  the  hard  edge  of  the  spade, 
and  with  the  slightest  possible  pressure  drove  it 
deep  into  the  earth.  As  she  dug  she  sang  a  song 
on  two  notes,  a  high  and  a  low,  which  welled  out  of 
her  full  breast  like  the  sound  of  a  sweet-toned  bell. 
The  chemise,  a  coarse  and  roughly  made  garment, 
had  slipped  off  her  shoulders,  laying  bare  the  strong, 
magnificently  moulded  neck.  When  he  addressed 
her,  she  drew  herself  erect  with  a  sudden  movement 
of  surprise  and  alarm,  and  stood  before  him  half 
naked. 

She  turned  on  him  a  pair  of  lustrous,  large  dark 
eyes.  "  What  do  you  want  here  ? "  she  asked, 
grasping  the  spade  tighter,  as  if  intending  to  use  it 
as  a  weapon  of  defence.  Then  lifting  her  other 
arm  she  calmly  raised  the  chemise  over  her  shapely 
bosom. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  she  repeated. 

Still  he  did  not  answer.  "So  this  is  she,"  he 

was  thinking,  "  the  traitress,  the  courtesan,  who 

Should  he  point  his  pistol  at  her,  and  drive  hei 
instantly  from  the  island,  so  that  the  ground  he 
trod  on  might  at  least  be  clean  ?  " 


56        THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

Meanwhile  his  bearing  seemed  to  have  convinced 
her  of  the  peacefulness  of  his  intentions. 

"This  is  no  place  for  strangers,"  she  went  on. 
"Go  away  again  at  once.  You  are  lucky  not  to 
have  been  caught  in  a  wolf's  trap." 

She  stood,  drawn  to  her  full  height,  and  waved 
him  off.  Then  gradually  she  became  confused 
under  his  searching  glance,  and  regarded  him  ner- 
vously out  of  the  corners  of  her  eyes.  Tossing 
back  the  black  tangle  of  hair  from  her  sunburnt 
cheeks,  she  began  to  fidget  with  her  inadequate 
garment,  seeming  conscious  for  the  first  time  of  her 
half-nude  condition. 

"  Show  me  his  corpse !  "  he  asked  imperatively. 

She  started  and  stared  at  him  for  a  moment 
with  astonished,  questioning  eyes,  then  threw  her- 
self weeping  at  his  feet. 

"Gnadiger  Herr  /"  she  murmured,  in  a  voice 
stifled  with  emotion. 

He  felt  her  fingers  seeking  his  hand,  and  pushed 
her  violently  from  him. 

"  Show  me  his  corpse ! "  he  commanded  again, 
"  and  then  you  may  go." 

She  rose  slowly,  kicked  the  spade  away  with  her 
foot,  and  led  the  way  down  to  the  park.  As  they 
neared  some  bushes  she  turned  round  and  said 
timidly,  "  There's  a  trap  here."  He  stepped  quickly 
to  one  side,  otherwise  he  would  have  walked  straight 
into  the  snare.  She  held  back  the  brambles  of  the 
thicket  through  which  they  were  making  their  way, 
to  prevent  the  thorns  scratching  his  face.  They 


THE  SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS        57 

came  to  a  clearing  in  the  wood  where  stood  a  small 
one-storied  cottage  with  a  tall  chimney,  surrounded 
by  broken  hot-house  frames  and  lime  heaps.  It 
was  the  gardener's  house,  in  which  as  a  boy  he  had 
often  played  with  flower-pots,  seeds,  and  bulbs  ;  the 
one  solitary  building  the  ravages  of  the  fire  had  left 
untouched,  because  the  incendiary  had  been  unable 
to  find  his  way  to  it. 

Again  his  guide  warned  him.  "  Take  care  !  That 
is  dangerous,"  she  said,  pointing  to  a  heap  of  earth 
like  a  mole-hill.  "Whoever  steps  on  it  is  a  dead 
man,"  she  added  half  to  herself.  He  knelt  down, 
and  with  his  hands  dug  out  the  bomb  that  lay  con- 
cealed in  the  soft  earth,  and  hurled  it  with  all  his 
might  far  away,  so  that  it  exploded  with  a  loud 
report  against  the  trunk  of  a  tree.  She  cast  a  shy, 
half-scandalised  glance  at  him  over  her  shoulder,  for 
to  her  what  he  had  done  was  an  act  of  desecration. 

Then  she  opened  the  door,  and  he  found  himself 
in  a  dark  passage.  The  cottage  had  only  two  rooms. 
The  one  on  the  left  of  the  front-door  had  been  the 
gardener's  dwelling-room,  the  other  his  workshop. 

From  the  former,  the  door  of  which  stood  ajar, 
issued  a  powerful  death  odour. 

He  went  in.  A  body  veiled  in  white  lay  on  a  low 
bier  in  the  middle  of  the  close,  gloomy  little  room. 

"  Leave  me,"  he  said,  without  looking  round,  and 
he  threw  back  the  cloth. 

His  father's  rigid  features,  covered  with  bristles, 
stared  up  at  him.  The  eyes  had  sunk  far  back  in 
his  head ;  the  brows  were  contracted.  In  tte  hoi- 


$8         THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS 

lows  of  his  cheeks  bushy  black  hair  had  sprouted, 
while  the  beard  had  turned  partially  grey.  The 
short,  thick  nose  had  shrunk,  and  close  to  the 
firmly-shut  lips  that  had  not  parted  in  death  lay 
a  deep  line,  denoting  intense  suffering,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  defiant  scorn ;  as  Boleslav  looked  down 
on  it,  the  line  seemed  to  deepen  still  more,  and  at 
last  to  quiver  and  play  round  the  mouth  that  was 
still  for  ever. 

He  dropped  on  his  knees,  and,  with  folded  hands, 
prayed  a  paternoster.  His  tears  fell  fast,  and 
rained  heavily  on  the  waxen  face  of  the  dead  man. 

"  Your  guilt  is  my  guilt,"  he  whispered  hoarsely. 
"If  I  don't  defend  your  memory,  who  else  will? 
No  one  in  all  the  world." 

Then  he  covered  up  the  body  again  with  the 
white  cloth,  for  flies  were  swarming  round  it.  As 
he  turned  away,  he  observed  the  girl's  dark  head 
pressed  against  the  foot  of  the  bier.  Her  sym- 
metrical neck  and  shoulders  shone  out  in  relief 
from  the  shadowy  background. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ? "  he  demanded 
roughly.  She  crouched  down,  shivering,  and  raised 
her  left  shoulder,  as  if  to  ward  off  a  threatened 
blow.  Her  eyes  flashed  a  warm  ray  through  the 
masses  of  her  curly  hair. 

"No  one  has  ever  driven  me  away  from  him 
before,"  she  murmured. 

"But  /  drive  you  away,"  he  answered  with 
decision. 

She  rose  and  quietly  vanished.     He  tore  open  a 


THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS        59 

window,  for  he  felt  half  suffocated,  and  then  took 
a  survey  of  the  apartment.  It  was  small  and 
wretched  enough,  and  was  filled  up  without  any 
attempt  at  arrangement  with  the  most  inappro- 
priate and  heterogeneous  assortment  of  furniture, 
most  of  it  evidently  rescued  in  haste  from  the 
fire ;  a  gold-legged  table  harmonised  ill  with  rickety 
kitchen  chairs ;  a  peasant's  canopied  bed  stood  near 
gorgeous  consoles  of  inlaid  marble,  and  a  cracked 
Venetian  mirror  hung  beside  a  bullfinch's  simple 
wicker  cage.  But  nothing  looked  more  out  of  its 
element  than  the  life-size  portrait  of  the  beautiful 
Pole,  his  grandmother,  and  the  original  cause  of  all 
the  evil  that  had  befallen  him.  Her  haughty,  arro- 
gant eye  still  pierced  the  distance  triumphantly ;  the 
small  gloved  hand  still  grasped  the  flexible  riding- 
whip.  "  Kneel,  slave,"  the  full  proud  lips  seemed 
to  say.  Only  the  diamond  pin  which  used  to  glitter 
in  her  bosom  like  a  star  was  gone,  for  just  there  the 
colour  had  warped,  and  the  grey  canvas  beneath  was 
exposed  to  view.  The  once  elegant  and  artistically 
carved  frame  representing  a  garland  of  gilded  roses 
and  cupids  had  suffered  too,  being  chipped  and 
cracked  in  various  places,  where  patches  of  coarse 
orange  paint  had  been  daubed  on  to  repair  the 
damage. 

"  Probably  he  took  every  care  to  save  that  first," 
thought  Boleslav,  and  had  not  the  presence  of  his 
father's  corpse  restrained  him,  he  would  have 
pulled  it  down  from  the  wall,  and  trampled  it 
under  foot 


60        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

A  case  containing  arms  stood  in  a  corner.  The 
newest  and  most  costly  of  shooting  weapons  were 
ranged  there,  including,  every  variety  of  pistol, 
sword,  and  spear.  Above  it  was  unrolled  a  plan 
of  the  Castle  island,  showing  the  spots  where  in- 
geniously contrived  man-traps,  mines,  and  spring- 
guns  awaited  the  trespasser — roughly  calculated, 
there  were  over  a  hundred  of  them. 

Boleslav  shuddered.  Surely  this  unhappy  man 
had  been  punished  enough  for  his  misdeeds  in  the 
life  he  had  been  compelled  to  lead  during  his  last 
few  years  on  earth  !  Caged  up  like  a  hunted  wild 
beast,  his  murderous  contrivances  were  a  perpetual 
source  of  menace  to  himself,  for  to  have  forgotten 
for  a  moment  the  position  of  one  of  his  death-traps 
must  have  instantly  proved  fatal. 

When  Boleslav  went  out  at  the  door  he  stumbled 
over  Regina,  who  was  cowering  on  the  threshold. 
She  started  to  her  feet  with  a  low  cry  of  pain,  like 
the  whine  of  a  trodden-on  dog.  He  felt  a  momentary 
thrill  of  compassion  for  her,  but  it  vanished  before 
he  had  spoken  the  kind  words  that  involuntarily 
rose  to  his  lips. 

"What  were  you  lying  there  for?"  he  inquired 
harshly. 

"  It's  my  place,"  she  answered,  always  regarding 
him  with  the  same  humble,  luminous  glance. 

"  Indeed  ?     It's  a  dog's  place  as  a  rule." 

"  It's  mine  too." 

"  Your  name  is  Regina  Hackelberg  ?  " 

"Yes,  gnad'ger  Junker" 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS       61 

"  It  was  you  who  led  the  French  over  the  Cats' 
Bridge  ?  " 

"  Yes,  gnacTger  Junker." 

"  Why  did  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  Because  I  was  told  to  do  it." 

"Who  told  you?" 

She  cast  down  her  eyes. 

"  Why  don't  you  answer  ?  " 

"  Because  I  was  forbidden  to  tell." 

"  Who  forbade  you  ;  my — he  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  the  gnad'ger  Herr" 

"  So  that's  what  you  call  him,  eh  ?  " 

"  Yes,  gnad^ger  Junker." 

"  Call  me,  if  you  please,  Herr,  and  not  Junker. 
I  am  not  Junker" 

"  Very  well,  gnatfger  Herr" 

"Herr,  I  say  —  simply  Herr.  Do  you  under- 
stand ?  " 

" Yes,  gnacTger  Herr" 

"  Himmelkreuxdonnerwetter  !  Didn't  I  say  you 
were  to  call  me  Herr,  without  any  prefix  ?  " 

She  trembled  nervously  at  his  oath  ;  but  when  it 
dawned  on  her  what  he  meant,  a  smile  of  pleasure 
illumined  her  face. 

" I  see,  Herr"  she  said,  and  nodded. 

"I  shall  expect  you  to  tell  me  everything,"  he 
went  on.  "  Do  you  hear  ?  " 

"The  gndcTger  Herr  did  not  wish  me  to  speak 
about  it.  ...  Not  to  any  one." 

"  Did  he  say  not  to  any  one  ?  " 

"Yes." 


62        THE   SINS   OF   THE  FATHERS 

He  bit  his  lip.  Why  should  he  inquire  further 
into  the  matter,  when  it  was  all  as  clear  as  day- 
light ?  This  creature  had  been  used  as  a  tool 
because  she  was  stupid,  and  bad  enough  to  let 
herself  be  so  used. 

"How  old  were  you  at  the  time  the  French 
came  ?  " 

Again  she  cast  down  her  eyes. 

"  Fifteen,  Herr." 

Once  more  he  felt  softened  towards  her,  but 
almost  immediately  dark  suspicion  stifled  his  pity. 

"  You  were  paid  for  your  work  ? "  he  asked 
between  his  clenched  teeth. 

" Yes,  Herr"  she  responded  calmly. 

He  was  overwhelmed  with  disgust 

"  How  much  was  it  ?     Your  bribe  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  Herr." 

"  What !  You  mean  to  say  you  did  not  stipulate 
for  a  certain  sum  beforehand  ?  " 

She  seemed  unable  to  comprehend. 

"  My  father  took  it  all  away  from  me,"  she 
answered.  "  He  said  it  was  the  wages  of  sin.  It 
was  a  whole  big  handful  of  gold.  I  know  that." 

He  looked  at  her  in  amazement. 

The  fine  head,  with  its  wealth  of  wild  hair  cluster- 
ing on  her  neck,  was  humbly  bent.  She  appeared 
not  to  have  the  slightest  perception  of  the  scorn  she 
had  aroused  in  him ;  or  was  she  so  used  to  it  that 
she  took  his  contempt  as  a  matter  of  course  ? 

"What  were  you  doing  at  the  Castle  when  the 
French  were  quartered  there  ?  " 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS        63 

A  dark  flush  suffused  her  face,  neck  and  bosom. 
He  had  struck  some  chord  of  memory  that  awakened 
in  her  a  spark  of  shame. 

"I  was  helping  with  the  sewing,"  she  stammered. 

"Why  did  you  come  to  the  Castle  ?" 

"My  father  told  me  I  must.  He  said  I  was  to 
go  up  and  ask  the  gnad'ger  Herr  if  there  was  any 
sewing  for  me  to  do.  I  was  to  earn  my  bread  some- 
how, he  said." 

"Oh,  indeed !"  There  was  a  pause,  then  he  con- 
tinued: "Go  and  put  on  a  jacket,  Regina." 

She  passed  her  hand  over  her  bosom  and  drew 
her  linen  garment  tighter  round  her  chest,  till  the 
string  cut  into  the  swelling  flesh. 

"Well,  why  don't  you  go?" 

"I  haven't  got  a  jacket." 

"What!    Didn't  he  clothe  you?" 

"They  tore  my  jacket  off  my  back  yesterday." 

"WTho?" 

A  gleam  of  burning  hate  flashed  from  her  eyes. 

"Who?  Why,  they — the  people  down  there,  of 
course,"  and  she  spat  in  the  direction  of  the  village. 

A  feeling  of  mingled  surprise  and  satisfaction 
arose  within  him,  for  here  was  a  being  who  could 
share  his  hatred ;  some  one  whom  fate  was  to  asso- 
ciate with  him  in  the  coming  struggle  with  the 
villagers  below. 

"So  the  people  down  there  are  your  foes'?"  He 
said. 

She  laughed  jeeringly. 

"I  should  just  think  they  were.     TEey  tKrow 


64        THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

stones  at  me  whenever  they  get  the  chance — stones 
as  big  as  this."  She  joined  the  hollows  of  her 
hands  together  to  show  the  size. 

"  For  how  long  have  they  thrown  stones  at  you  ?" 

"  It  must  be  six  years,"  she  said  after  a  moment's 
calculation. 

"  And  how  often  have  they  hit  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  lots  of  times.  Look  here  !  "  and  she  let  the 
chemise  slip  down  again,  to  display  a  scar  extending 
from  her  shoulder  to  the  root  of  her  bosom,  which 
marked  the  warm  olive  skin  with  a  thin  line  of 
scarlet. 

"  But  now  I  always  take  the  tub  with  me." 

"The  tub?" 

"Yes;  the  wash-tub.  I  hold  it  over  my  head 
and  neck  when  they  come  after  me." 

What  a  wretched  existence  was  hers — worse 
than  a  dog's ! 

"  Why  have  you  gone  on  staying  here  when  they 
treat  you  thus?"  he  asked.  "There  are  other 
places  in  the  world." 

She  gazed  at  him  in  astonishment,  as  if  she  did 
not  grasp  his  meaning. 

"  But  I  belong  here,"  she  said. 

"You  might  at  least  have  left  the  island,  and 
betaken  yourself  somewhere  where  your  life  would 
not  always  be  in  danger." 

She  gave  a  short  laugh. 

"Was  I  to  leave  him  to  starve?"  she  asked; 
and  then,  growing  suddenly  red,  she  added,  correct- 
ing herself  shyly,  "  I  mean  the  gnacTger  fftrr." 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS       65 

He  nodded  to  reassure  her,  for  she  looked  as  if 
she  expected  to  be  chastised  on  the  spot  for  her  slip 
of  speech,  poor  miserable  creature ! 

"  I  don't  go  down  there  oftener  than  I  can  help. 
Generally  I  go  over  the  Cats'  Bridge  by  night  to 
Bockeldorf,  three  miles  away.  There,  at  Bockel- 
dorf,  I  could  get  flour  and  meat,  and  everything 
else  that  he — the  gnddiger  Herr — wanted,  if  I  paid 
double  the  price  for  it,  and  be  back  by  the  morning. 
But  sometimes  it's  impossible  to  get  there — in  a 
snow-storm,  for  instance,  or  a  flood.  So  when  the 
weather  was  very  bad  I  was  obliged  to  go  down  to 
the  village,  and  had  to  pay  still  more  money  there, 
and  even  then  perhaps  get  nothing  but  blows.  So  " 
— she  laughed  a  wild,  almost  cunning  laugh — "  I 
just  took  what  came  handy." 

"  That  means — you  thieved  ?  " 

She  gaily  nodded  assent,  as  if  the  achievement  was 
deserving  of  special  praise. 

She  was  so  depraved,  then,  this  strange,  savage 
girl,  that  she  was  quite  incapable  of  distinguishing 
the  difference  between  right  and  wrong ! 

"  And  what  were  you  doing  in  the  village  yester- 
day ?  "  he  questioned  anew. 

"  Yesterday  ?  Well,  you  see,  he  must  be  buried. 
It's  time,  Herr}  quite  time.  And  I  thought  to  my- 
self, however  much  I  cry,  that  won't  get  him  under 
the  earth." 

"  So  you  cried,  did  you  ? "  he  asked  contemptu- 
ously. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied.     "  Was  it  wrong  ?  " 


66        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"Well,  never  mind  :  go  on." 

"And  so  I  took  the  tub  and  went  down  to  the 
pastor's.  But  the  pastor  said  I  mustn't  contaminate 
his  house  by  coming  near  it,  so  on  I  went  to  land- 
lord Merckel,  who  is  mayor  as  you  know,  Herr. 
And  there  the  soldiers  saw  me " 

"What  soldiers?" 

"  The  soldiers  who  have  just  come  from  the  war." 
She  paused  again. 

"  Go  on !  "  he  commanded. 

"And  the  soldiers  cried  out  'Down  with  her — 
strike  her  down  ! '  and  then  the  chase  began,  and  my 
father  joined  in  and  called  out '  Down  with  her ! '  too, 
but  he  was  only  drunk,  as  he  nearly  always  is.  ... 
The  stones  flew  about,  and  the  women  and  children 
caught  hold  of  me  and  held  me  fast,  that  they  might 
strike  me;  but  I  had  the  tub  and  held  it  with 
both  hands  high  over  their  heads,  hacking  with  it 
right  and  left  like  this."  She  illustrated  her  story 
by  holding  up  her  rounded  muscular  arms  in  the 
air,  and  bringing  them  down  again  like  a  pair  of 
clubs. 

The  tall,  magnificent  figure  before  him,  reminded 
him  of  some  antique  statue  in  bronze.  Strange,  that 
in  spite  of  all  the  degradation  and  vileness  amidst 
which  she  had  been  reared,  it  should  have  blossomed 
into  such  fulness  of  triumphant  splendour.  There 
was  something  classic,  too,  in  the  mere  unaffected 
freedom  with  which  she  exposed  its  charms.  But 
of  course  in  reality  she  was  nothing  but  a  shameless 
hussy,  long  since  lost  to  all  sense  of  decency. 


THE   SINS    OF  THE    FATHERS        67 

"  Perhaps  you  have  got  a  shawl,  if  not  a  jacket," 
he  suggested,  turning  his  back. 

"  Yes,  I  have  a  shawl,  a  woollen  one." 

"  Then  put  it  on  at  once." 

She  disappeared  silently  through  the  door  before 
which  they  had  been  standing,  and  after  a  few 
moments  returned  in  a  brilliant  red  tippet  which 
she  had  crossed  over  her  breast  and  tied  in  a  knot 
behind.  Now  that  she  had  awakened  to  the  fact  that 
her  half-clothed  condition  shocked  him,  she  began 
to  be  ashamed  of  even  her  naked  arms,  which  she 
had  no  means  of  concealing.  She  kept  them  folded 
behind  her  back,  and  crept  into  the  darkest  corner 
of  the  passage. 

"Did  they  refuse  to  bury  the  gnadiger  Herr?" 
he  demanded. 

"No — no — one  said  anything,"  she  answered, 
"  because  I  never  asked." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"Because  I  couldn't  for  the  stones  that  were 
hurled  at  me.  And  then  I  thought  it  was  no  good. 
Nobody  would  ever  come  and  fetch  him.  I  might 
as  well  shovel  him  in  myself,  as  best  I  could." 

"  You  proposed  to  do  it !     Without  help  ?  " 

"  If  I  could  carry  him  from  the  Cats'  Bridge  into 
the  house  without  help,  I  ought  to  be  able  to  bury 
him  too." 

"  Where — in  the  churchyard  ?  " 

"  The  churchyard  ?  Ha  !  ha !  That  would  have 
been  a  pretty  piece  of  business.  I  should  never 
have  got  him  through  the  village  and  been  alive 


68         THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

afterwards  to  tell  the  tale.  It  was  in  the  garden, 
over  by  the  Castle.  I  was  in  the  middle  of  digging 
the  grave  when  the  Herr  arrived." 

Now  he  felt  strongly  inclined  to  praise  her. 
Such  canine  fidelity,  unquestioning,  unhesitating, 
touched  him  deeply.  Did  not  the  girl  who  had 
faced  death  readily  a  thousand  times  for  her 
master's  sake,  deserve  some  sort  of  reward  ?  Yes. 
He  would  repay  her  in  coin ;  good  hard  cash  would 
doubtless  be  more  acceptable  than  anything  else, 
poor  thing!  And,  directly  he  had  laid  his  father 
in  his  last  resting  -  place,  he  would  dismiss  her 
from  his  service.  Till  then  she  might  stay  where 
she  was. 

But,  at  all  costs,  his  father's  bones  must  lie  with 
those  of  his  ancestors.  His  first  duty,  his  bounden 
duty  as  a  son,  was  to  procure  for  him  a  decent 
burial,  such  as  was  granted  to  every  Christian 
human  being.  No  matter  what  difficulties  might 
stand  in  the  way,  he  determined  to  accomplish  the 
sacred  task,  even  if  he  were  driven  to  resort  to 
extreme  measures,  and  call  in  the  aid  of  the  law. 
He  knew  at  least  one  magistrate  in  Prussia,  a 
relative  oj  his  mother's,  who  would  take  his  side, 
and  enforce  justice  with  an  armed  contingent  if  the 
worst  came  to  the  worst. 

He  was  just  in  the  act  of  walking  off  in  the 
direction  of  the  village,  when  it  occurred  to  him 
that  it  was  impossible  to  take  a  hundred  steps  on 
his  own  property  without  being  snared  into  a 
hundred  death  -  traps.  Without  the  woman  he 


THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS        69 

detested   to  guide  him,  he  was   as   helpless  as  a 
child. 

"  Lead  me  to  the  drawbridge,"  he  said ;  M  and 
while  I  am  gone  clear  away  all  the  traps." 


But  she  remained  motionless,  as  if  rooted  to  the 
spot. 

"  What  are  you  waiting  for  ?  " 

"  I  beg  the  Her^s  pardon,  but  he  has  been  travel- 
ling all  night,  and  I  thought " 

"  What  did  you  think  ?  " 

"  That  the  Herr  must  be  very  tired,  and  hungry 
perhaps;  and " 

She  was  right.  He  could  hardly  stand  from 
sheer  exhaustion.  But  the  idea  of  taking  even  a 
crust  from  her  hands  filled  him  with  loathing. 
Rather  would  he  be  fed  by  his  enemies. 


CHAPTER  V 

MEANWHILE  in  the  Black  Eagle  a  group  of 
Schrandeners,  burghers  and  burghers'  sons,  were 
enjoying  their  morning  pint  together.  The  Schran- 
deners, who  had  always  thought  the  ideal  of  a  happy 
life  was  to  spend  as  much  time  as  possible  in  the 
tavern,  were  now  at  liberty  to  indulge  their  taste 
from  morning  to  night.  What  work  they  did 
must  have  been  accomplished  very  early  in  the 
day,  judging  by  the  hour  at  which  they  began  their 
recreation. 

Young  Merckel  presided  at  their  carousals.  He 
had  grown  up  into  a  fine,  broad-shouldered  young 
fellow,  with  a  cavalry  moustache  aggressively  curled 
up  at  the  ends,  which  suited  his  cast  of  counte- 
nance, and  a  manner,  that  even  in  bouts  of  clownish 
dissipation  retained  a  certain  swaggering  bonhomie. 
At  the  conclusion  of  the  war,  instead  of  getting  his 
discharge,  he  had  come  home  on  leave,  to  consider 
at  his  ease  whether  or  not  it  would  be  advisable  to 
attach  himself  to  a  standing  army.  His  profession 
was  not  likely  to  interfere  with  his  decision  one  way 
or  the  other,  as  practically  he  had  none. 

Till  his  twenty-fourth  year  he  had  been  employed 
in  "seeing  life"  in  different  parts  of  the  world  at 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS        71 

his  father's  expense,  and  had  hailed  with  joy  the 
outbreak  of  war  as  a  legitimate  outlet  for  his  energy, 
which  otherwise  might  have  been  turned  into  un- 
worthy channels. 

Like  Baumgart  he  had  entered  the  army  as  a 
volunteer  Jager;  like  him  had  passed  into  the 
militia  and  had  been  promoted  to  the  rank  of  lieu- 
tenant, but  unlike  him,  he  wore  as  a  recognition  of 
his  bravery  the  iron  cross  dangling  on  his  proudly 
swelling  breast.  For  the  time  being,  he  had  no 
intention  of  leaving  his  birthplace  again,  where  he 
was  perfectly  content  to  be  regarded  in  the  light  of 
a  hero  and  a  lion. 

He  drank,  blustered,  and  helped  to  fan  the  flame 
of  hate  against  the  traitor,  hate  which  since  the 
return  of  the  victorious  soldiers  had  blazed  up  more 
fiercely  than  ever.  At  his  instigation  the  Schran- 
deners  had  gone  forth  to  destroy  the  Cats'  Bridge  in 
order  to  cut  the  baron  off,  on  his  island.  That  he 
would  be  struck  dead  before  their  very  eyes  none  in 
their  boldest  dreams  had  dared  to  hope,  and  with- 
out having  achieved  their  mission  they  had  hurried 
back  to  the  village  to  proclaim  the  glad  tidings. 

It  was  a  foregone  conclusion  that  the  man  who 
had  betrayed  his  country  would  be  refused  Christian 
burial.  This  would  put  the  crown  on  their  work  of 
vengeance.  They  gloried  in  reflecting  on  it.  The 
mayor  was  on  their  side ;  the  parson  appeared  to 
shut  his  eyes  to  what  was  going  on ;  and  there  was 
no  reason  to  be  afraid  of  the  interference  of  higher 
authority. 


72        THE  SINS   OF    THE   FATHERS 

That  a  champion  of  the  dead  would  arise  at  the 
eleventh  hour  was  the  last  thing  any  one  expected. 

For  the  Junker  —  God  alone  knew  what  had 
become  of  the  Junker — had  he  not  totally  dis- 
appeared, probably  to  die  of  shame  in  a  distant 
land?  .  .  . 

"  There's  some  one  coming,  wearing  a  Landwehr 
cap,"  said  Felix  Merckel,  looking  out  through  a 
crack  in  the  blinds  on  to  the  market-place,  which  lay 
glaring  and  dusty  in  the  heat  of  the  mid-day  sun. 

The  sounds  of  revelry  subsided,  in  expectation  of 
the  advent  of  a  stranger.  Felix  Merckel  stretched 
out  his  legs  and  began  to  toy  indifferently  with  his 
medal. 

The  door  swung  back.  The  new-comer  brought 
a  momentary  stream  of  sunlight  into  the  cool, 
darkened  room.  Without  a  word  of  greeting  he 
walked  to  the  buffet,  behind  which  a  barmaid  sat 
knitting  a  stocking,  and  inquired  if  he  could  speak 
a  few  words  with  the  mayor.  The  mayor  was  not 
at  home ;  he  had  just  gone  out  into  the  fields,  the 
barmaid  told  him. 

Herr  Merckel  was  fond  of  leaving  the  inn  in 
charge  of  his  son,  for  he  found  the  beer  disappeared 
twice  as  fast  from  the  barrels  when  he  was  not 
present.  Felix  adopted  a  method  of  stimulating 
customers  to  drink,  which  would  not  have  been 
becoming  in  the  host.  He  couched  his  invitations 
in  military  slang  and  in  figures  of  speech  learnt  in 
the  camp ;  to  resist  them  would,  the  Schrandeners 
held,  be  casting  a  slight  on  their  lieutenant,  so  it 


THE   SINS    OF    THE    FATHERS        73 

followed  that  Felix  was  the  means  of  adding  treasure 
to  his  father's  exchequer. 

He  was  piqued  at  the  stranger  in  the  Landwehr 
cap  not  vouchsafing  him  a  salute,  although  he  must 
have  seen  the  officer's  badge  on  his  coat,  and  deter- 
mined to  ignore  him. 

"Can  I  wait  here  till  the  mayor  comes  back?" 
the  stranger  asked. 

"Of  course.  This  is  the  tap-room,"  the  barmaid 
replied. 

He  took  a  seat  in  the  farthest  corner  from  the 
topers,  with  his  back  turned  to  them,  put  down  his 
knapsack,  and  bowed  his  head  in  his  hands. 

Herr  Felix  regarded  such  conduct  as  a  kind  of 
challenge  to  himself.  Like  the  true  son  of  his 
father,  he  was  indignant  at  a  stranger  coming  in 
and  ordering  nothing  to  drink. 

"Ask  the  gentleman,  Amalie,  what  he  will  take," 
he  called  out,  bursting  with  a  sense  of  his  own  im- 
portance. Apparently  the  stranger  didn't  hear,  for 
he  took  no  notice.  The  barmaid  stood  behind  his 
chair  and  stammered  something  about  the  excellent 
quality  of  Schrandener  beer. 

"Thank  you;  I  will  drink  nothing,"  he  replied, 
without  looking  up. 

Herr  Felix  twisted  with  vigour  the  ends  of  his 
moustache.  It  was  clear  that  a  rebuke  must  be 
administered  to  the  stranger  for  his  churlish  be- 
haviour. He  therefore  rose  to  his  feet,  and  swing- 
ing his  tankard,  began  in  a  somewhat  blatant  tone 
to  address  his  boon-companions. 


74        THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

"  Dear  comrades  and  fellow-burghers  and  every 
one  present,  Prussia's  glorious  battles  have  been 
fought.  Our  beloved  Fatherland  has  risen  from 
the  dust  in  new  and  unsuspected  splendour.  Most 
of  us  have  bled  on  the  field  of  glory,  and  felt  the 
enemy's  bullets  pierce  our  breast.  Whoever  is  a 
true  Prussian  patriot  will  now  drink  with  me  his 
country's  health  and  honour ! " 

With  high-pitched  hurrahs,  the  mugs  with  one 
accord  were  lifted  to  the  revellers'  mouths,  but 
before  they  could  drink,  an  incisive  "  Halt ! "  from 
the  lieutenant  stopped  them. 

"  I  see  there  is  some  one  here,"  he  cried,  "  who 
seems  inclined  to  shirk  this  sacred  duty ; "  and  he 
rose  and  walked  with  clanking  spurs  across  the 
room  to  the  stranger's  table. 

"  Sir,"  he  asked  aggressively,  "  do  I  understand 
you  don't  wish  to  drink  to  Prussia's  fame  and 
glory?" 

"  I  wish  to  be  left  in  peace,"  answered  the 
stranger,  not  turning  round. 

"  What,  sir  ?  You  who  wear  the  honourable 
symbol  of  a  defender  of  your  country  in  your  cap, 
decline " 

A  sudden  movement  on  the  part  of  the  stranger, 
who  grasped  his  pistols,  made  him  break  off.  The 
next  moment  he  saw  firearms  gleam  in  his  hand, 
saw  him  spring  up,  and  stood  aghast,  staring  into 
a  pale,  overcast  face  that  he  knew  well,  but  from 
which  two  such  angry  eyes  had  never  blazed  at 
him  before. 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS       75 

He  understood  the  situation  at  once;  he  stood 
face  to  face  with  a  man  desperately  resolved  to  go 
to  any  extremity  if  necessary. 

"  Look  at  me,  Felix  Merckel,"  said  the  stranger, 
who  was  stranger  no  longer,  "  and  learn  that  I  wish 
to  have  nothing  to  say  to  you.  But  understand 
that  if  you  or  any  of  your  friends  come  too  near, 
they  will  rue  it.  The  first  who  approaches  within 
an  inch  of  me  I  will  shoot  down  like  a  dog." 

Felix  Merckel  quickly  regained  his  composure. 

"Ah!  the  Herr  Baron!"  he  exclaimed,  with  a 
profound  bow.  "Now  I  am  not  surprised  that 
Prussia's " 

The  click  of  the  double  trigger  of  the  cavalry 
pistol  made  him  stop  short  again. 

"  I  warn  you  once  more,  Felix  Merckel.  I  am 
an  officer  as  well  as  yourself." 

And  the  reiterated  warning  had  its  effect. 

"  Certainly,  it  is  not  my  concern,"  Felix  said,  and 
with  another  low  bow,  went  back  to  his  place ;  this 
time  the  clatter  of  his  spurs  was  scarcely  audible. 

The  Schrandeners  put  their  heads  together  and 
whispered,  and  then  old  Merckel  entered  the  room. 
His  round,  sleek,  clean-shaven  face  beamed  with 
prosperity  and  self-satisfaction.  As  beseemed  the 
village  patriarch,  he  passed  by  the  common  drink- 
ing-table  with  a  dignified  gait.  A  heavy  silver 
watch-chain  hung  on  his  greasy  satin  waistcoat, 
suspended  from  a  gold  keeper  in  the  form  of  a 
Moor's  head,  to  which  was  also  attached  an  amber 
heart 


76        THE   SINS   O*    THE    FATHERS 

"  The  Herr  wished  to  speak  to  me  ?  "  he  asked, 
with  a  profound  obeisance,  which,  however,  he 
seemed  to  repent,  when  his  little  grey  lynx  eyes 
remarked  that  the  stranger  had  no  glass  before 
him.  To  be  obsequious  to  a  non-drinker  was  a 
waste  of  time. 

The  Schrandeners  kept  their  ears  open.  Felix 
had  jumped  up  as  if  to  seize  this  favourable  oppor- 
tunity of  going  for  his  whilom  friend  with  his  fists. 

"I  say,  father,  it's  the  young  Herr  Baron"  he 
exclaimed,  with  a  discordant  laugh. 

Old  Merckel  withdrew  a  few  steps.  His  bene- 
volent smile  died  on  his  lips ;  his  fleshy  fingers 
fumbled  nervously  with  the  Moor's-head  keeper. 

"  Can  I  speak  to  you  alone  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  Herr  Baron— -of  course,  Herr  Baron — is 
the  Herr  Baron  going  to  stay  ?  " 

He  flung  wide  a  side  door,  which  opened  into  the 
little  best  parlour  reserved  for  gentry.  A  sofa, 
covered  with  slippery  oil-cloth,  and  a  few  velvet, 
bulky  arm-chairs,  were  ready  for  the  reception  of 
distinguished  customers.  Over  a  cabinet  containing 
tobacco  hung  a  placard  with  the  inscription,  "Only 
wine  drunk  here." 

Before  the  host  closed  the  door  behind  Boleslav, 
he  made  a  reassuring  sign  to  his  fellow-burghers 
as  if  to  allay  their  anxiety.  Then  from  under  his 
drooping  lids  he  took  a  rapid  survey  of  the  newly- 
returned  young  aristocrat's  person,  which  seemed  to 
fill  him  with  satisfaction,  for  again  his  smug,  slimy 
smile  played  about  his  fat  lips. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS       77 

"How  the  H err  Junker  has  grown,  to  be  sure!" 
he  began.  "  Wonderful ! " 

Boleslav  fixed  his  eyes  on  him  silently. 

"And  the  H  err  Junker — pardon,  I  ought  to  say 
Herr  Baron — has  come  home  to  find  the  old  Herr 
Baron  no  longer  alive.  A  pity  he  was  not  in  time 
to  close  the  eyes  of  the  sainted  dead " 

He  broke  off,  and  caught  violently  at  his  amber 
heart,  for  Boleslav's  piercing,  threatening  gaze 
began  to  make  him  feel  uneasy.  What  if  this  was 
a  desperado,  who  would  think  nothing  of  taking 
him  by  the  throat  ? 

"At  any  rate  I  have  come  in  time,"  Boleslav  burst 
forth  at  last,  "to  repair  the  shameful  scandal  that 
has  been  perpetrated  here  in  refusing  my  father  the 
last  honour  due  to  his  position." 

"  Shameful  scandal,  my  Herr  Baron  ?  " 

"I  advise  you,  my  worthy  man,  not  to  put  on 
that  air  of  saint-like  innocence.  I  can  read  you 
through  and  through.  Something  has  come  to  my 
ears  concerning  you,  for  which  you  deserve  to  be 
thrashed  on  the  spot." 

"  Herr  Baron  ! "  and  he  showed  signs  of  taking 
flight  through  the  door. 

"Stay  where  you  are!"  commanded  Boleslav, 
barring  the  way.  Thank  God  that  in  confronting 
this  scum  he  felt  the  old  inherited  instinct  of  con- 
scious power  come  back  to  him.  "  Is  this  the 
gratitude  you  show  my  house,  to  whose  favours 
you  owe  everything  ?  " 

This  was  true  enough.     The  present  landlord  of 


78        THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

the  Black  Eagle  had  once  hung  about  the  Castle  in 
search  of  a  situation,  and  had  finally,  as  its  ubiqui- 
tous commissionaire,  amassed  a  considerable  fortune, 
although  he  now  chose  to  adopt  an  attitude  of  in- 
jured virtue,  and  rubbed  his  hands  self-righteously. 

" Dear  Herr  Baron"  he  said,  a  paternal  kindli- 
ness suffusing  his  broad  countenance,  "  I  willingly 
pardon  the  insults  you  have  just  neaped  on  me, 
and  will  give  you  the  best  advice,  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  Now,  you  will  surely  understand  how 
friendly  are  my  intentions." 

"  I  decline  your  friendship,"  thundered  Boleslav. 
"As  mayor  of  the  village  of  Schranden,  you  will 
answer  my  questions.  Beyond  that,  I  have  no 
dealings  with  you." 

"  The  Schrandeners,  dear  Herr  Baron,  are  really 
terrible  people.  I  always  have  said  so.  I  said  so 
many  times  to  my  dear  wife.  You  knew  her,  Herr 
Baron.  Why,  of  course,  she  often  took  the  little 
Junker  in  her  arms,  Jittle  thinking  that " 

"Keep  to  the  point,  if  you  please,"  Boleslav 
interrupted. 

"'Marianne,'  I  used  to  say,  'these  Schrandeners, 
when  once  they  get  an  idea  into  their  heads,  nothing 
will  move  them.'  Once  they  took  it  into  their  heads 
not  to  drink  my  brandy.  Good,  pure,  beautiful 
Wacholder,  Herr  Baron.  In  the  same  way  they've 
now  got  it  into  their  heads  not  to  bury  the  old  noble 
lord,  and — well,  upon  my  word,  no  God  and  no 
devil  will  force  them  to  do  it.  It's  no  good  your 
trying  either,  Herr  Baron.  I'll  tell  you  why.  The 


THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS        79 

hearse  belongs  to  the  corporation,  and  they  won't  let 
you  have  it.  Horses,  too,  they  wouldn't  let  out.  .  .  . 
As  for  bearers — dear  God !  Go  round  the  village 
and  see  if  you  can  find  one,  and  if  you  can,  see  if 
he  is  not  well  flogged  for  it  quarter  of  an  hour  after- 
wards. Oh  !  these  Schrandeners  !  And  then  there 
is  the  Herr  Pastor — who  really  in  the  end  has  the 
most  voice  in  the  matter.  Go  to  the  Herr  Pastor, 
and  hear  what  he  says.  Putting  ceremonials  and 
paternosters  out  of  the  question,  you  won't  even  get 
the  coffin  made." 

"We  shall  see,"  said  Boleslav,  gnashing  his  teeth. 
He  felt  his  spirit  of  resistance  rise,  the  more  clearly 
he  saw  the  web  that  hatred  and  malice  were 
weaving  around  him. 

"  You  shall  see,"  exclaimed  old  Merckel  in  badly 
concealed  triumph,  "if  you  wish  it,  Herr  Baron" 

He  opened  the  door  of  the  tap-room,  from  whence 
proceeded  a  low  hum  of  many  voices.  Half  the 
village  seemed  to  have  collected  there  during 
Boleslav's  interview  with  the  mayor. 

"  Hackelberg !  come  here ! "  he  called,  and  then 
hurriedly  banged  the  door  to  again,  for  he  saw 
hands  laid  on  it  that  threatened  to  tear  it  off  its 
hinges. 

"If  he  has  got  over  his  debauch  of  yesterday, 
Herr  Baron,  he  will  certainly  come  and  himself 
give  you  his  views  on  the  subject."  For  a  moment 
the  little  lynx  eyes  sparkled  with  malignant  joy. 
Then  resuming  his  benevolent  patriarchal  smile,  he 
went  on,  twisting  the  amber  heart. 


8o        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"  You  have  repudiated  my  friendship,  young  man. 
You  have  insulted  me,  and  shown  no  respect  for  my 
grey  hairs — I  don't  resent  it.  You  wouldn't  have 
done  it  if  you  had  known  how  I,  at  the  risk  of  my 
life — for  if  the  Schrandeners  had  got  wind  of  it  they 
would  have  done  me  to  death — how  I  saved  many 
a  time  the  noble  baron,  of  blessed  memory,  from 
starvation.  Ask  the  Frdulein. 

"WhatFrautem?" 

"The  pretty,  faithful  Frdulein  Regina  —  your 
deceased  father's  best  beloved.  She  is  a  pearl, 
Herr  Baron  ;  you  ought  to  hold  her  in  high  esteem, 
and  take  her  away  with  you  on  your  travels. 
Often  in  the  darkness  of  the  night  have  I  stuck  a 
loaf  and  a  sausage  in  her  apron,  Herr  Baron,  and 
sometimes  a  pound  of  coffee,  Herr  Baron,  while  I 
have  made  my  own  breakfast  off  rye-bread  for  fear 
of  the  embargo,  Herr  Baron" 

"  Weren't  you  paid  for  your  trouble  ?  " 

"  Well ;  yes,  yes.  When  one  risks  one's  life  one 
expects  to  be  paid.  There  is  still  a  little  bill  due, 
however,  Herr  Baron,  left  standing  from  last  winter ; 
if  the  Herr  Baron  will  have  the  goodness  to " 

"Write  out  your  account,  and  the  money  shall 
be  sent  you." 

"There's  no  hurry,  Herr  Baron.  I  have  con- 
fidence ;  can  trust  you,  Herr  Baron.  What  I  wish 
to  say  is,  take  the  advice  of  an  old  and  experienced 
man,  and  go  home  now  without  more  ado ;  dig  a  grave 
behind  the  Castle,  and  lay  the  deceased  Herr  in  it 
— do  it  at  night,  mind,  on  the  quiet,  quite  on  the 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS        8 1 

quiet — Frtiulein  Regina  will  assist  you — then  make 
the  turf  perfectly  smooth,  so  that  no  one  will  know 
where  you've  laid  him,  and  before  the  dawn  of 
another  day  ride  away  again  with  Fraulein  Regina 
on  your  saddle  to  where " 

He  paused  suddenly,  for  Boleslav's  hand  was  on 
the  butt  -  end  of  his  pistols.  Then  the  devilish 
mockery  beneath  this  suave  old  hypocrite's  counsel 
was  goading  him  into  drastic  measures.  While  he 
listened  to  it,  a  new  thought  had  flashed  across  his 
brain  with  vivid  distinctness.  The  funeral  would 
after  all  only  be  the  first  step  in  the  work  that 
it  was  incumbent  on  him  to  complete.  Never 
would  he  slink  away  under  cover  of  night  like  a 
criminal,  and  abandon  what  remained  of  the  inherit- 
ance of  his  ancestors  to  utter  ruin.  No !  he  would 
stay  and  endure  all  things.  Set  at  defiance  all 
these  malicious  hyenas,  the  worst  of  whom  stood 
before  him,  now  grinning,  with  greedily  gleaming 
eyes,  only  awaiting  his  opportunity  to  pounce  on 
the  masterless  unowned  possessions. 

Endure !     Endure ! 

Renunciation  for  the  sins  of  the  fathers  must  ever 
be  his  lot.  And  did  not  the  foul  act  that  had  laid 
waste  his  property  deserve  retributive  justice  ?  He 
would  be  a  deserter  and  renegade,  indeed,  were  he 
now  to  turn  his  back  on  his  native  place,  and  on  the 
beloved,  who,  though  she  seemed  lost  to  him  eter- 
nally, might  still  be  cherishing  timid  hopes  of  meet- 
ing him  once  more.  No!  for  the  future  his  flag 
should  wave  over  the  ruins  of  Schranden  Castle, 

F 


82        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

with  the  single  word  "  Revenge "  blazoned  on  it 
in  fiery  characters.  And  who  but  a  cowardly  cur 
would  leave  his  flag  in  the  lurch  ? 

He  stepped  nearer  the  mayor,  and  with  a  threat- 
ening glance  that  seemed  to  penetrate  him  through 
and  through,  almost  roared  in  his  ear — 

"Who  set  fire  to  the  Castle ?" 

Herr  Merckel  winced  as  if  his  conscience  pricked 
him.  Every  Schrandener  did  the  same  when  any 
question  arose  as  to  who  it  was  had  perpetrated 
the  crime.  Every  Schrandener  except  one,  and  he 
was  the  criminal  himself. 

Herr  Merckel  was  gathering  up  his  strength  for 
a  glib  answer  when  the  suppressed  murmur  in  the 
tap-room  gave  place  to  a  sound  which  had  a  louder 
and  more  riotous  note  in  it. 

The  landlord  made  a  movement  in  the  direction 
of  the  door,  to  bolt  it  on  coming  events,  but  before 
he  could  take  the  precaution  it  was  stormed  and 
burst  open.  A  troop  of  wild-looking  creatures  led 
the  assault,  at  the  head  of  whom  was  a  man  of 
puny  stature,  in  rags  and  tatters,  with  straight, 
black  hair  hanging  in  oiled  ringlets  to  his  shoulders, 
a  grey,  stubbly  beard,  and  a  pair  of  glassy,  besotted 
eyes  that  rolled  under  red,  lashless  lids.  He  beat 
the  air  with  his  fists  and  cried — 

"  Where  is  the  fellow — the  brute  ?  Let  me  catch 
the  brute  and  I'll  strangle  him  ! " 

Then  he  beheld  Boleslav's  tall,  resolute  form, 
and  swallowed  his  words  with  a  gurgling  hiss. 
Behind  him  was  a  phalanx  of  angry,  heated,  in- 


THE   SINS    OF  THE    FATHERS        83 

» 
quisitive   faces    all   turned    on    Boleslav    as    on   a 

recently  captured  beast  of  prey. 

"  Every  man's  hand  is  against  me  ! "  he  thought, 
and  his  blood  rose. 

"  Are  you  the  carpenter  Hackelberg  ?  "  he  asked, 
holding  the  drunkard  in  thrall  with  his  searching 
glance. 

He  was  associated  with  one  of  the  dark  memories 
of  his  childhood.  Once  his  pitiable  howls  had 
frightened  him  out  of  his  quiet,  boyish  slumbers, 
and  on  looking  from  his  window  he  had  seen  him 
being  whipped  round  the  courtyard,  for  poaching. 
Now  he  stood  shaking  his  fists,  grunting  and 
spluttering  with  rage. 

"You  supply  the  village  with  coffins,  I  under- 
stand?" 

The  carpenter  shook  his  head,  stared  vacantly  in 
front  of  him,  and  then  answered  in  a  sepulchral 
voice — 

"  I  am  at  work  on  only  two  coffins — one  for 
myself,  and  one  for  my  poor  erring  daughter." 

The  Schrandeners  laughed  in  their  sleeve.  This 
formula  was  so  familiar.  When  any  one  died  in 
the  village  the  carpenter  had  to  be  fetched  by 
force,  locked  up  with  a  bottle  of  brandy  and  the 
necessary  boards,  and  not  let  out  till  the  coffir 
was  finished.  Taken  all  in  all,  this  Hackelberg 
was  a  dangerous  fellow,  and  no  one  knew  it  better 
than  the  Schrandeners,  who  never  let  him  otu 
of  their  sight  for  long.  He  was  watched  am; 
shadowed,  and  many  an  arm  was  ready  to  strut* 


84        THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

him  down  when  the  right  moment  should  offer 
itself. 

Nevertheless  they  courted  his  society  in  the 
tavern,  made  him  drunk,  and  humoured  him. 
Sometimes  they  hung  on  his  lips,  at  others,  stopped 
his  mouth.  Either  they  put  him  under  lock  and 
key,  or  allowed  him  to  bully  them.  It  was  as  if 
they  had  endowed  their  own  bad  conscience  with 
flesh  and  blood,  and  allowed  it  to  run  wild  amongst 
them  in  the  shape  of  this  unkempt,  half-crazed  sot. 

"Who  else  makes  coffins  in  the  village  besides 
you  ?  "  Boleslav  asked  again. 

The  Schrandeners  burst  into  jeering  laughter. 
They  knew  how  difficult  he  would  find  it  to  get 
any  direct  answer  to  his  question. 

"  My  poor,  wretched  child,"  he  growled,  fastening 
his  glassy  eyes  on  Herr  Merckel's  amber  heart, 
which  appeared  to  possess  a  fascination  for  him. 
Then  suddenly  rousing  himself  once  more  from 
the  half-stupor  into  which  he  had  collapsed,  he 
threatened  Boleslav  with  his  fists,  and  cried  out 
excitedly — 

"What  do  you  want  from  me,  Herr?  A  coffin  ? 
Is  that  what  you  want  ?  For  whom  do  you  want 
it?  For  the  scamp,  the  dog,  who  betrayed  his 
country — who  seduced  my  child  ?  Do  you  think 
I'd  make  a  coffin  for  him?  Look  at  me,  Herr. 
Did  you  ever  see  such  a  spectacle  ?  "  He  wrenched 
open  his  shirt,  and  exposed  to  view  his  shaggy 
breast.  "I'm  a  beauty  —  mere  offal,  that  dogs 
would  turn  up  their  noses  at  And  whose  fault  is 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS        85 

that,  my  dear  young  nobleman  ?  Why,  the  Herr 
Baron's,  your  deceased  father's.  He  it  was  who 
reduced  me  to  this,  and  made  me  an  unhappy, 
forsaken,  childless  old  man,  such  as  you  see."  He 
wiped  his  eyes  with  the  ragged  sleeve  of  his  cor- 
duroy jacket,  while  the  Schrandeners  applauded, 
and  backed  him  up  in  his  maudlin  oration.  "  My 
child,  my  only  child,  was  torn  from  my  bosom.  He 
robbed  me  of  my  child " 

"  I  believe  you  yourself  sent  her  to  the  Castle," 
Boleslav  interposed,  without,  however,  making  the 
least  impression. 

"  He  made  my  child  a  prostitute,  but  what's  worse, 
young  sir — what  most  lacerates  my  father's  heart — 
for  though  I'm  a  blackguard,  I'm  a  patriot;  for  in 
Prussia  even  blackguards  love  their  country — if 
there  are  any  blackguard  Prussians  .  .  .  but  my  child 
...  ah  !  do  you  know  what  he  did  with  my  child  ? 
.  .  .  forced  her  with  the  lash  to  go  out  in  the  dark 

night  and But  since  then  do  you  think  I'd 

own  her  ?  No  .  .  .  she  is  my  child  no  longer.  I've 
cursed  her — cast  her  off !  I  said  to  her,  '  You  are 
my  own  flesh  and  blood  no  longer.'  That's  what  I 
said,  and " 

"  But  you  took  the  wage  of  her  sin  all  the  same," 
Boleslav  was  on  the  point  of  interrupting,  but 
recollected  in  time  that  in  saying  so  he  would  be 
admitting  his  father's  guilt  to  this  pack  of  wolves. 

" '  And  you  are  free,'  I  said.  '  You  may  go  where 
you  like,  and  whoever  you  meet  may  kill  you 
outright  for  all  I  care.  Go  to  your  gnadigen 


86        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

Hermj  I  said,  'and  ask  him  to  protect  you.'  I 
said " 

At  this  juncture  the  shouts  of  the  other  Schran- 
deners  became  so  much  louder  that  they  drowned 
the  carpenter's  speech.  They  closed  round  him, 
and  he  was  lost  in  the  crowd;  only  his  rasping 
laugh  was  still  audible. 

"  What  did  I  prophesy,  Herr  Baron  ?  "  asked  old 
Merckel,  with  his  unctuous  smile. 

Boleslav  leant  against  the  end  of  the  sofa,  and 
regarded  the  crew  of  Schrandeners  pressing  ever 
nearer  with  clenched  teeth  and  unflinching  eye. 

"  If  one  strikes  me,"  he  thought  to  himself,  "  the 
rest  will  tear  me  to  pieces." 

He  felt  how  imperative  it  was  to  remain  calm. 

"  Come,  you  people,"  he  said,  making  a  passage 
through  their  ranks  with  his  hands,  "  let  me  pass." 

And  whether  it  was  his  commanding  air  of  cool 
determination,  or  the  cross  which  shone  in  his 
military  cap,  that  awed  the  tumultuous  throng,  not 
one  of  them  attempted  to  impede  his  progress.  He 
passed  into  the  thick  of  the  mob,  expecting  every 
moment  to  be  struck  a  fatal  blow  from  behind; 
but  nothing  of  the  sort  happened — unchallenged  he 
found  himself  in  the  open  air.  Felix  Merckel  had 
kept  in  the  background. 

The  whole  mob,  now  including  women  and  chil- 
dren, surged  after  him  down  the  road. 

As  he  reached  the  parsonage  garden,  whose  white 
walls  blazed  in  the  rays  of  the  mid-day  sun,  he  was 
aware  of  an  aching  sensation  at  his  heart,  that  rose 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS        87 

in  a  lump  to  his  throat.  His  last  hope  rested  in 
the  hands  of  the  old  pastor.  Would  he  too  spurn 
him  from  his  threshold  ?  But  at  this  moment  that 
was  not  his  only  anxiety.  How  could  he  help  feeling 
anxious  as  to  what  her  reception  of  him  would  be, 
she  in  whose  power  it  was  to  exalt  him  from  the 
mire  of  shame  and  misery  into  a  world  of  peace  and 
purity.  If  she  saw  him  in  his  present  condition, 
dirty  and  dishevelled,  with  this  escort  of  hooting 
ruffians  behind  him,  would  she  not  recoil  in  horror  ? 

And  she  did. 

A  terrified  hand  threw  back  the  glass  door  of  the 
veranda.  It  was  she — it  must  be  she!  For  a 
moment  he  saw  the  glimmer  of  a  white,  slender 
figure ;  saw  her  raise  an  arm,  as  if  to  wave  off  the 
approach  of  him  and  the  mob :  and  then,  before 
Boleslav  could  give  one  questioning,  imploring  look 
at  the  beloved  features,  she  vanished  with  a  faint 
cry  of  alarm. 

There  was  a  mist  before  his  eyes.  Half  stunned, 
he  went  up  the  steps  of  the  veranda,  closed  the 
door  behind  him,  and  awaited  the  next  turn  in  the 
course  of  events. 

The  Schrandeners  blockaded  the  veranda,  and 
some  flattened  their  noses  against  the  glass  in 
order  to  see  better  what  passed  within.  A  pane 
fell  out;  one  of  them  had  pushed  his  neighbour 
through  it,  whereupon  the  revered  voice  of  the 
old  pastor  was  heard  raised  in  remonstrance.  He 
appeared  on  the  veranda  flourishing  a  thick, 
notched  walking-stick.  His  white  hair  blew  about 


88        THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS 

his  lofty  temples.  The  nostrils  of  his  hawk-like 
nose  dilated  furiously  as  if  they  snorted  battle. 
Beneath  the  snow-white  shaggy  projecting  brows 
his  eyes  glowed  like  fiery  torches.  Such  was  the 
venerable  Pastor  Gotz,  who,  in  the  March  of  the 
year  1813,  had  gone  from  house  to  house,  holding 
the  big  cross  from  the  altar  in  his  hand,  followed 
by  a  drummer,  and  had  beaten  up  recruits  for  the 
holy  war.  And  had  he  not  been  left  fainting  by  the 
roadside  on  the  march  to  Konigsberg,  in  all  pro- 
bability he  would  have  accompanied  his  soldier- 
parishioners  into  the  field  of  action. 

The  Schrandeners  stood  in  no  little  dread  of  his 
discipline,  and  no  sooner  did  they  catch  sight  of 
his  formidable  stick  than  they  retreated  quickly 
from  the  windows,  and  tried  to  regain  the  garden 
gate. 

"  You  hell-hounds,  craven  sheep ! "  he  shouted 
from  the  glass  door.  "Come  to  God's  house  on 
Sunday  and  I'll  give  you  a  dressing." 

Then  turning  on  Boleslav,  he  measured  him  from 
head  to  foot  with  a  scowling  glance.  His  eye 
rested  on  the  military  cap  he  held  in  his  hand. 

"  You  were  in  the  campaign  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes." 

"  If  it  were  not  for  the  cross  I  see  on  the  brim 
of  your  cap,  I  should  ask  was  it  for  or  against 
Prussia  ?  " 

Boleslav,  whose  thoughts  had  followed  the  fleet- 
ing vision  of  light  he  had  seen  on  the  veranda, 
at  first  did  not  understand  him ;  then  he  met  the 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS        89 

insinuation  with  signs  of  passionate  resentment. 
But  the  old  pastor  was  not  the  man  to  be  easily 
intimidated,  and  while  they  both  glowered  at  each 
other,  he  cried — 

"Boleslav  von  Schranden,  am  I,  or  am  I  not, 
justified  in  cherishing  such  a  suspicion  ?  " 

Then  Boleslav's  eyes  fell  before  the  condemnation 
in  those  of  his  former  master.  He  opened  the  door 
of  his  study,  where  between  the  book-shelves  hung 
pipe-racks  and  fire-arms,  and  said — 

"  Out  of  respect  for  the  cap  I  will  not  refuse  you 
entrance  here.  But  make  what  you  have  to  say  as 
brief  as  possible.  In  this  house  no  Schranden  is 
a  welcome  guest." 

He  put  his  stick  in  a  corner,  and  drawing  his 
flowered  dressing-gown  close  about  his  loins,  paced 
up  and  down  the  room. 

Boleslav  cast  about  for  words.  He  felt  like  a 
criminal  in  the  presence  of  this  man,  whose  speech 
was  like  molten  brass.  Of  a  truth  it  was  no  easy 
matter,  this  taking  the  guilt  of  another  on  to  one's 
own  guiltless  shoulders. 

11 H err  Pastor"  he  began,  stammering,  "can't 
you  forget  for  a  moment  that  I  bear  the  name  of 
Schranden  ?  " 

The  old  man  laughed  bitterly.  "That's  asking  a 
little  too  much,"  he  murmured;  "a  little  too  much." 

"  Regard  me  simply  in  the  light  of  a  son  who 
wishes  to  bury  his  father,  and  who  is  prevented 
from  fulfilling  that  most  sacred  duty  by  the  wicked- 
ness and  malice  of  the  canaille.1' 


90        THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

For  answer  the  old  parson  contracted  his  shaggy 
brows  without  speaking. 

"  I  appeal  to  you  as  a  priest  of  the  Christian 
Church.  Will  you  suffer  such  a  scandal  in  your 
parish  ?  " 

"  Such  a  thing  cannot  happen  in  my  parish,"  the 
old  man  declared.  "Wherever  it  is  my  duty  to 
lead  souls  to  God,  every  one  must  be  granted  a 
decent  burial." 

"  And  yet  they  dare " 

"  Stop !     Whose  burial  is  in  question ! " 

"  My  father's." 

"  The  Freiherr  Eberhard  von  Schranden  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  That  man  has  been  dead  for  seven  years." 

"Herr  Pastor!" 

"For  seven  years  he  lived  ostracised  from  the 
society  of  his  fellow-creatures.  Seven  years  he 
practically  rotted  in  the  earth.  Therefore,  don't 
trouble  me  about  him  further." 

"Herr  Pastor,  I  was  once  your  pupil.  From 
your  lips  I  first  learnt  the  name  of  God.  I  always 
thought  you  a  brave,  upright  man.  I  retract  that 
opinion  now ;  for  what  you  have  just  been  saying 
are  lying,  cowardly  quibbles." 

The  old  man  drew  himself  up.  His  beard  worked ; 
his  nostrils  expanded.  With  lurid  eyes  he  came 
nearer  to  Boleslav. 

"  My  son,"  he  said,  "  do  I  look  like  a  man  who 
would  countenance  a  lie  ?  " 

Boleslav  maintained  his  defiant  attitude.      But, 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS       91 

much  as  he  struggled  against  it,  he  felt  the  old, 
long-forgotten  sentiment  of  respect  for  the  school- 
master awaking  in  him  once  more. 

"  My  son,"  went  on  the  old  man,  "  a  word  from 
me,  and  the  rabble  that  waits  for  you  on  the  other 
side  of  that  hedge  would  lynch  you ,  but,  as  I  said 
before,  for  the  sake  of  the  cap  you  wear,  I  will  be 
merciful.  If  you  like,  I  can  prove  that  what  I  said 
just  now  is  no  lie." 

He  went  to  a  cupboard,  where  stood  a  long  line 
of  ragged  folios,  containing  church  and  parish  docu- 
ments, took  out  a  volume,  and,  opening  it,  pointed 
to  a  page  dated  1807. 

"  Here,  my  son,  read  this." 

And  Boleslav  read — 

"On  March  5th,  died  Hans  Eberhard  von 
Schranden.  Ex  memoria  hominum  exstinguatur" 

Beneath  were  three  crosses. 

"  That  is  a  forgery ! "  exclaimed  Boleslav. 

"  Yes,  my  son,"  the  old  man  answered  solemnly, 
"  that  is  a  palpable,  shameless  forgery ;  a  stain  on 
my  office;  and  if  you  choose  to  report  it  to  the 
magistrates,  I  shall  be  suspended  and  end  my  days 
in  prison.  Do  exactly  as  you  think  fit.  My  fate 
lies  in  your  hands." 

A  shudder  of  mingled  horror'and  reverence  passed 
through  Boleslav.  He  had  himself  experienced  too 
often  the  wild  Man  and  reckless  delight  of  making 
sacrifices  for  the  love  of  his  country,  no:  to  under- 
stand what  impulse  had  driven  the  old  clergyman 
to  this  insane  confession. 


92        THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"  With  those  crosses,"  he  continued,  "  I  buried 
the  man  seven  years  ago — the  man  who,  in  spite 
of  his  cruelty  and  ungovernable  passions,  had  till 
then  been  my  friend.  From  that  day,  whoever 
dared  to  breathe  so  much  as  his  name  in  my  house 
was  sent  out  of  it.  Then  came  that  night  of  arson, 
when  these  walls  were  illumined  by  the  reflection 
of  the  burning  Castle.  I  jumped  out  of  my  bed, 
and,  throwing  myself  on  my  knees,  prayed  God  to 
forgive  the  incendiaries,  for  it  began  to  burn  at  all 
four  corners  at  once,  a  sure  proof  that  the  fire  was 
not  an  accident.  Now,  I  thought,  not  only  the 
deed,  but  the  scene  of  it,  will  be  erased  from  men's 
minds.  I  didn't  concern  myself  in  the  least  about 
the  spectre  that  was  doomed  to  haunt  the  ruins  of 
Castle  Schranden.  And  now  you  come,  my  son, 
and  tell  me  that  that  spectre  was  no  spectre,  but  a 
living  creature,  who  only  a  few  days  ago  gave  up 
the  ghost,  and  now  awaits  interment.  Well,  I 
forbid  it  Christian  burial,  on  the  strength  of  this 
register.  I  never  bury  any  one  twice.  Report 
me,  and — and  I  shall  be  tried  for  my  offence.  But 
you  know  I  am  prepared.  Do  as  you  like.  Bury 
the  corpse  with  all  the  honours  you  consider  due  to 
it;  have  a  procession  grander  and  more  imposing 
than  an  emperor's,  but  kindly  leave  me  out  of  the 
show." 

He  settled  himself  in  his  green-cushioned  arm- 
chair, supported  his  face  with  his  wrinkled,  muscular 
hands,  and  stared  vacantly  at  the  open  register. 
There  was  nothing  to  hope  from  this  iron-willed 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FAfHERS       93 

man  of  God.  It  would  be  madness  to  keep  up  any 
illusion  on  the  subject,  and  that  other  illusion,  that 
the  loved  one  might  still  be  won  on  earth  after  long 
waiting  and  renunciation,  must  be  abandoned  too. 
All  the  shy  dreams  and  hopes  that  he  had  yet  dared 
to  cherish  in  his  embittered  heart  now  seemed 
finally  wrecked. 

"  So  this  is  the  divine  grace,  the  forgiveness  of 
sins,  you  preach ! "  he  cried,  tears  of  wrath  filling 
his  eyes. 

The  old  man  rose  slowly  and  let  his  hand  fall 
heavily  on  Boleslav's  shoulder. 

"  Because  of  your  cap,  my  son,  I  will  reason  with 
you,  although  the  sight  of  you  is  hateful  to  me. 
Listen !  It  is  a  year  and  a  half  now  since  there 
came  here  from  Russia  a  rabble  of  ragged  French 
beggars,  starving  and  frost-bitten.  The  Schran- 
deners  would  have  felled  them  to  the  earth  with 
their  scythes  and  pitchforks,  and  perhaps  would 
have  had  right  on  their  side,  for  they  were  mere 
carrion-serfs  in  the  pay  of  Napoleon.  But  I  opened 
the  church  door  to  them  that  they  might  take  refuge 
in  the  shelter  of  God's  altar.  I  kindled  a  fire  for 
them  on  the  flagstones,  and  had  a  hot  supper  cooked 
for  them  and  gave  them  straw  to  lie  on.  I  told  the 
Schrandeners  that,  though  they  were  enemies,  they 
were  human  beings  like  themselves,  bearing  the 
cross  of  human  suffering  as  the  Saviour  once  bore 
it  on  His  shoulders.  I  told  them  to  go  home  and 
pray  that  God  might  spare  them  as  they  had  spared 
those  miserable  Frenchmen.  So  you  see  I  can  be 


94        THE   SINS  OF  THE   FATHERS 

pitiful  and  show  mercy.  ...  To  return  to  the 
subject  of  the  funeral.  I  have  never  refused  any 
sinner  his  lawful  resting-place.  If  I  could  have  my 
will,  even  suicides  should  not  be  excluded  from  the 
churchyard.  That  those  who  have  been  unhappy 
in  their  lifetime  should  be  comfortable  in  death  has 
always  been  my  principle.  And  if  the  body  of  a 
man  who  had  murdered  his  mother  was  brought 
here  from  the  scaffold,  I  would  go  to  his  graveside 
in  full  canonicals  and  pray  the  King  of  kings  'to 
forgive  him,  for  he  knew  not  what  he  did.'  Yes, 
111  extend  mercy  to  all,  only  not  to  your  father. 
For  he  who  sins  against  his  country  outrages  every 
law  human  and  divine;  he  disgraces  the  mother 
who  bore  him  and  the  children  he  propagates. 
Such  a  one  is  a  social  outcast.  He  is  like  the  leper 
who  brings  death  and  corruption  with  him  wher- 
ever he  goes,  or  a  mad  dog  who  spurts  poison  from 
his  jaw  on  every  living  thing  that  comes  in  his  way. 
And  do  you  realise  the  extent  of  your  father's  guilt, 
the  mischief  it  has  worked  ?  It  is  not  so  much  the 
lives  of  those  two  or  three  hundred  Pomeranian 
youths  whose  bones  lie  buried  there  on  the  common 
that  are  to  be  reckoned  against  him.  They  would 
probably  have  met  death  somewhere,  later.  The 
grass  grows  high  on  their  graves ;  even  their  parents 
have  long  since  become  reconciled  to  their  loss. 
No,  it  is  not  on  their  account  that  I  bear  the  grudge. 

But come  here,  my  son " 

He  clutched  Boleslav's  hand  and  led  him  to  the 
window. 


THE  SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS        95 

"Look  out — what  do  you  see  on  the  other  side 
of  the  garden  hedge?  A  gang  of  turbulent  wild 
animals  thirsting  for  the  blood  of  their  prey,  and  yet 
too  craven-hearted  to  spring  on  it,  even  when  they 
have  it  within  their  reach.  And  look  at  me,  my  son. 
I  am  here,  appointed  by  God  as  His  minister  to 
preach  the  gospel  of  love,  and  I  preach  hate.  Words 
sweet  as  honey  should  flow  from  my  lips,  and 
instead,  scorpions  spring  out  of  my  mouth  directly 
I  open  it,  for  I  too  am  become  a  wild  animal.  And 
this  is  what  your  father's  crime  has  made  us.  There 
is  no  goodness  left  in  Schranden ;  the  venom  of  your 
father's  hate  ferments  in  us,  is  inoculated  into  our 
children  and  children's  children.  So  will  it  ever  be 
till  the  Lord  not  only  wipes  the  scene  of  infamy, 
but  your  accursed  name  with  it,  from  off  the  face  of 
His  blessed  earth.  Amen  !  " 

He  stood  with  raised  hands  like  some  anathe- 
matising prophet  of  the  Cld  Testament,  and  foam 
rested  in  the  corners  of  his  mouth. 

Boleslav,  half-dazed  and  horror-stricken,  turned 
in  silence  to  the  door.  The  old  man  did  not  call  him 
back.  As  he  crossed  the  hall  he  started  violently, 
for  he  was  sure  he  heard  the  rustle  of  a  woman's 
dress  behind  a  half-opened  door.  But  not  for  the 
world  would  he  meet  her  now.  Not  in  this  dark 
hour,  when  he  was  completely  overpowered  by  a 
sense  of  having  had  the  remnants  of  all  that  was 
good  and  noble  in  him  shattered  and  laid  in  the 
dust. 

"If  they  are  become  wild  beasts,  I  can  become 


96        THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS 

one  too,"  he  thought,  as  he  thrust  his  hand  in  the 
breast-pocket  that  held  his  pistols,  and  walked 
towards  the  Schrandeners.  The  old  pastor  was 
right.  Though  they  danced,  whooped,  and  jostled 
around  him  with  the  lust  of  murder  gleaming  in 
their  savage  eyes,  they  dared  not  lay  a  finger  on 
him. 

•  ••••• 

When  he  reached  the  drawbridge,  behind  the 
palings  of  which  a  girl's  figure  crouched,  awaiting 
his  return,  he  was  full  of  a  desperate  resolve.  His 
father  should  be  carried  to  his  last  resting-place  by 
an  armed  force. 

"<A.«e  you  ready  to  earn  another  large  sum  of 
money  'I "  he  asked  the  girl,  who  flushed  and  stood 
up  quickly  at  his  approach. 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  in  reflecti** 
surprise,  and  then,  as  his  meaning  dawned  on  her, 
she  shook  her  head  violently. 

"Why  not  ?"  he  demanded. 

She  began  to  tremble.  "What's  the  good  of 
money  to  me,  Herr?  "  she  asked,  in  subdued,  bitter 
tones.  "  They  would  only  take  it  away  from  me." 

"Who?" 

"People — those  people.  Please,  oh  please,  give 
me  no  money." 

"  Her  mind  is  clearly  unhinged,"  thought  Boleslav. 

"  Besides,  there  is  money  enough,"  she  continued 
in  a  whisper,  glancing  round  her  timidly,  "in  the 
cellar — great  boxes  full — where  the  wine  is.  I  used 
to  take  what  I  wanted  from  there — for  him,  I  mean — 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS       g-/ 

the  gnad'ger  Herr.  For  myself  I  never  want  any, 
unless  it's  to  buy  a  new  jacket  with." 

"  Will  you  earn  a  new  jacket  ?  " 

"There's  no  need  to  earn  it,  Herr.  Next  time 
I  go  to  Bockeldorf — for  the  Herr  must  have  food — 
I  can  get  one." 

So,  unreasoning  as  a  beast  of  burden,  she  per- 
formed her  duties,  and  expected  no  return  except 
her  food  ! 

"  Will  you,  then,  without  earning  anything,  go  a 
long  way  for  me  this  very  night  ?  " 

"Oh,  won't  I,  Herr,  if  you  wish  it?" 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  next  day  the  village  of  Schranden  received  an 
unexpected  visitation  that  proved  no  small  shock  to 
its  inhabitants.  At  about  five  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon two  coaches  appeared  in  the  village  street 
each  of  which  contained  half-a-dozen  occupants^ 
young  fellows  in  Jager  uniforms,  with  their  muskets 
slung  over  their  shoulders  from  wide  leather  belts. 

In  the  first  cr^.ch  there  was  also  a  female  occu- 
pant, who,  the  moment  the  horses'  heads  turned 
in  the  direction  of  the  space  opposite  the  church, 
alighted  with  a  wild  leap,  and  scudded  away  towards 
the  Castle. 

Every  Schrandener  recognised  in  her  the  deceased 
Baron's  sweetheart,  but  all  were  too  much  taken 
aback  to  think  of  following  her. 

The  coaches  halted  before  the  Black  Eagle,  the 
windows  of  which  were  eagerly  opened,  and  before 
the  strangers  had  moved  from  their  seats,  an  en- 
thusiastic welcome  was  extended  to  them. 

"  The  Heide  boys  —  Hurrah  !  "  shouted  Felix 
Merckel,  who  had  many  a  time  fought  side  by 
side  with  these  comrades  of  the  Sellinthin 
squadron,  and  he  stretched  a  foaming  jug  out  «, 
the  window 

9* 


THE   SINS   OF  THE  FATHERS        99 

His  father  threw  open  the  door  of  the  little  room 
reserved  for  "gentry,"  where  only  wine  was  drunk, 
in  the  hopes  that  at  least  some  of  these  wealthy 
yeomen  would  patronise  it.  But,  without  answer- 
ing the  warm  greetings,  they  proceeded  in  gloomy 
silence  to  unharness  the  horses,  and  to  take  out  of 
their  vehicles  all  manner  of  tools,  such  as  hatchets, 
files,  and  spades. 

The  Schrandeners  were  astounded. 

"Good  gracious !  have  you  lost  your  tongues  ?" 
Felix  Merckel  called  from  the  window.  "And  why 
haven't  you  brought  your  paragon,  Lieutenant 
Baumgart,  with  you?" 

Still  no  answer. 

The  Schrandeners  began  to  think  these  strangers 
must  be  playing  off  a  joke  on  them,  and  burst  into 
extravagant  laughter. 

Then  Karl  Engelbert,  who  evidently  had  the 
command  of  the  expedition,  came  under  the  window 
from  which  Felix's  broad-shouldered  form  obtruded 
itself,  and,  greeting  him  with  a  half-military  salute, 
said — 

"With  your  permission,  Herr  Lieutenant,  we 
have  come  here  not  to  take  part  in  any  festivities 
or  anything  of  that  sort.  We  are  a  funeral  party." 

"But  here  in  Schranden  no  one  is  going  to  be 
buried,"  cried  Felix  Merckel,  still  laughing,  but  his 
face  appreciably  lengthened. 

"Indeed,  Herr  Lieutenant !  Nevertheless,  we  have 
been  invited  to  a  funeral." 

"Who  has  invited  you?" 


ioo       THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"Our  former  officer,  Lieutenant  Baumgart." 

"Nonsense!  There's  no  Lieutenant  Baumgart 
here.  I  thought  you  were  going  to  bring  him  with 
you." 

"Pardon,  Herr  Lieutenant,  he  is  here  already." 

"Where  is  the  fellow  hiding,  then  ?" 

"Probably  you  know  him  better  under  another 
name — Herr  von  Schranden." 

The  stone  jug  in  Felix's  hand  fell  and  crashed 
to  pieces  at  Engelbert's  feet.  The  beer  splashed 
his  legs  up  to  the  knee. 

A  tumult  arose  inside  the  inn.  As  if  in  prepara- 
tion for  battle,  windows  were  speedily  closed,  and 
Johann  Radtke,  driven  by  thirst  to  ascend  the  steps 
to  the  main  entrance,  found  the  door  banged  in  his 
face. 

"Hunted  from  the  threshold  like  tramps !"  grum- 
bled the  dark-haired  Peter  Negenthin,  and  clenched 
his  fist  in  his  sling. 

"Do  you  wish  to  perjure  yourself?"  asked  Engel- 
bert  in  a  low  voice,  coming  close  to  him.  "If  so, 
then  go  back.  What  is  required  of  us  we  must 
do.  Whoever  forgets  the  church  at  Dannigkow  is 
a  cur !" 

"And  if  we  are  dry  we  must  wet  our  whistles 
with  holy  water,  I  suppose,"  added  Radtke  with  a 
sigh. 

Engelbert  shouldered  his  musket  and  gave  the 
orders  to  move  on.  The  procession  filed  off  in  the 
direction  of  the  Castle,  a  handful  of  natives,  out  of 
respect  for  the  muskets,  bringing  up  the  rear. 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS      101 

Boleslav  stood  on  the  bridge  to  receive  his 
friends. 

He  rushed  towards  them  in  delight,  and  could 
hardly  articulate,  for  emotion,  the  words  of  grati- 
tude that  rose  to  his  lips. 

Engelbert  held  out  his  hand  in  silence.  Boleslav 
was  going  to  embrace  him,  but  he  drew  back.  In 
his  excitement  Boleslav  did  not  notice  the  rebuff. 

"I  knew  you'd  come,"  he  stammered  forth  at  last 
— knew  that  I  had  friends  who  would  not  leave 
me  undefended  to  the  tender  mercies  of  this  pack 
of  wolves." 

No  one  made  any  response.  They  stood  drawn 
up  in  an  unbroken  line,  their  eyes  looking  beyond 
rather  than  at  him,  in  embarrassment.  Engelbert 
was  the  first  to  break  the  silence.  , 

"You  have  summoned  us,  and  we  have  come — 
but  our  time  is  short;  tell  us  what  you  want  us 
to  do." 

For  a  moment  Boleslav  wondered  at  being  ad- 
dressed in  this  curt,  somewhat  surly  fashion,  by  the 
comrade  who,  of  all  others,  had  been  his  favourite. 
But  it  was  only  for  a  moment.  Why  should  he 
doubt  them?  Had  they  not  come?  And  then,  in- 
coherently enough,  he  related  how  his  father's  dis- 
grace had  descended  on  him,  and  what  he  had  re- 
solved to  do,  with  their  help. 

All  the  time  a  pair  of  shining  eyes  watched  him 
from  the  other  side  of  a  rubbish  heap,  and  a 
woman's  figure  that  sat  cowering  there  trembled 
like  an  aspen. 


102      THE   SINS    OF  THE    FATHERS 

"  They  are  here — they  are  in  the  village ! "  she 
had  called  out  to  him  in  timid  excitement,  as  she 
had  flown  into  the  yard  like  a  Maenad.  At  first  he 
had  not  recognised  her  in  a  light  cotton  skirt,  a  bed- 
jacket  buttoned  over  her  panting  bosom,  and  a  hand- 
kerchief of  many  colours  on  her  bead,  tied  under  the 
chin,  according  to  a  fashion  of  the  peasant  girls  in 
the  neighbourhood. 

"  They  gave  me  these  things  to  put  on,"  she  had 
added  apologetically,  on  observing  his  puzzled  looks. 

And  then  in  pleasure  at  the  news  that  his  friends 
had  arrived,  he  had  forgotten  her,  till,  while  waiting 
for  them  on  the  bridge,  he  had  caught  sight  of  hei 
hovering  about  the  ruins.  The  head-dress  had  fallen 
on  her  neck,  and  the  wild  black  tresses  escaped,  and 
waved  in  confusion  about  her  sunburnt  face.  She 
seemed  to  be  smiling  absently  to  herself. 

He  was  ashamed  to  think  his  friends  had  seen 
this  woman,  and  decided  to  pay  her  off  and  dismiss 
her  on  the  spot,  so  that  they  should  not  encounter 
her  again. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  he  demanded. 

She  started. 

"  Nothing,  Herr"  she  replied,  guiltily  lowering 
her  eyes. 

"  Why  did  you  smile  ?  " 

"  Ah,  Herr?  she  murmured,  "  I  was  so  glad." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  I  had  got  safely  back  here  again." 

What  strange  fascination  had  this  spot  of  earth 
for  the  abandoned  creature  who  had  suffered  on  it 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      103 

nothing  6ut  shame  and  degradation  and  endless  mis- 
ery? He  remembered  to  have  heard  of  domestic 
cats  who,  when  the  house  to  which  they  belong  is 
deserted  by  its  inhabitants,  prefer  to  starve  beneath 
its  mouldering  roof  than  to  take  up  their  abode  else- 
where. And  if  this  cat-like  propensity  were  incur- 
able in  her — what  then  ?  After  all,  perhaps  it  would 
be  cruel  at  this  moment  to  pass  sentence  of  banish- 
ment upon  her.  She  might  as  well  stay  till  to-mor- 
row morning,  so  long  as  she  kept  out  of  his  way. 

''Go,"  he  had  commanded,  "and  don't  come  near 
me  and  my  visitors  again." 

And  she  had  hung  her  head  humbly,  and  vanished 
behind  the  rubbish  heap,  and  there  she  cowered  now, 
in  terror  of  being  discovered. 

When  Boleslav  had  finished  his  story,  Engelbert 
exchanged  significant  glances  with  his  friends,  then 
said — 

"We  have  brought  the  requisite  tools  with  us.  If 
you  can  supply  us  with  the  wood,  we  will  knock  you 
up  a  coffin  in  a  very  short  time." 

"Naturally  it  won't  be  a  very  grand  one,"  re- 
marked Peter  Negenthin  with  a  stony  smile. 

Engelbert  looked  at  him  reprovingly.  A  subdued 
growl  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth  through  the  little 
party,  which  Boleslav,  in  his  most  light-hearted  con- 
fidence in  his  friends'  good  will,  did  not  hear. 

"Do  you  remember,"  he  exclaimed,  "that  coffin  we 
made  for  the  young  Count  Dohna  in  the  dark  ?  We 
took  two  hours  over  it,  though  we  couldn't  see  an 
inch  before  our  noses." 


104      THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

But  his  reminiscences  met  with  no  response. 

"One  of  you  hold  the  horses,"  said  Engelbert, 
"  and  the  rest  of  us  will  go  and  look  for  wood.  All 
must  be  ready  before  nightfall." 

Boleslav  bethought  him  of  the  wine  in  the  cellar, 
which  the  fire  had  spared,  where  also  was  the  frugal 
larder,  containing  bread  and  salt  meat,  but  not 
enough  with  which  to  entertain  his  friends. 

"  I  have  next  to  nothing  to  offer  you  to  eat,"  he 
said,  "  but  I  wish  you  would  at  least  refresh  your- 
selves with  a  bottle  of  wine  before  setting  to  work." 

The  friends  were  silent,  and  their  faces  clouded. 

"  Never  mind  refreshment,"  said  Engelbert,  trying 
to  assume  a  facetious  tone.  "  Wine  makes  a  man 
lazy,  and  we  haven't  a  minute  to  spare." 

He  stooped  to  test  some  scorched  rafters  that  lay 
about  among  the  stable  ruins. 

"This  will  do,"  he  said,  "but  we  won't  saw  oft 
the  blackened  part;  that  will  serve  us  instead  of 
paint." 

And  he  walked  on  farther  with  Boleslav  to  look 
for  more  rafters.  Something  white  rose  suddenly 
out  of  the  earth  in  front  of  them,  and  disappeared 
in  a  twinkling  behind  a  neighbouring  wall. 

Boleslav  instinctively  balled  his  fists,  for  he  had 
recognised  Regina. 

"  I  ought  to  apologise,"  he  said,  "  for  not  being 
able  to  send  you  a  better  messenger.  I  had  no  one 
else  to  send." 

Engelbert  was  about  to  speak,  but  seemed  t<» 
think  better  of  it. 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      105 

"You  were  obliged  to  supply  her  with  clothes,  I 
understand  ?  " 

"Yes,"  answered  Engelbert,  his  natural  loquacity 
getting  the  upper  hand.  "  I  found  her  lying  on  the 
doorstep  with  scarcely  a  rag  to  her  back.  She  was 
dead  beat.  I  got  up  in  the  night  to  see  what  the 
dogs  were  barking  at." 

"  What  ?     Was  it  in  the  night  ?  * 

"  Two  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Here  is  a  sound 
rafter.  We  can  use  that.  .  .  .  She  ran  the  twenty 
miles  in  seven  hours.  I  should  never  have  thought 
it  possible ;  she  lay  like  an  otter  that  has  been  shot 
down — so  straight  and  fair — and  gasped  for  breath. 
Your  sheet  of  paper  she  clung  to  with  both  hands. 
She  tried  to  stand  up,  but  fell  backwards.  Then  I 
fetched  her  brandy,  rubbed  her  temples,  and  gave 
her " 

One  of  his  companions  who  were  following  be- 
hind, now  came  up,  and  gave  him  such  a  look  of 
astonishment  and  reproach  that  he  broke  off  in  the 
middle  of  a  sentence. 

For  the  next  few  hours  an  industrious  sawing 
and  hammering  proceeded  from  the  Castle  island, 
which  sounds  fell  disagreeably  on  the  ears  of  the 
fierce  and  much  perturbed  Schrandeners  on  the 
opposite  bank  of  the  river.  It  seemed  to  portend 
that  their  nicely-laid  plans  were  at  the  last  moment 
to  be  frustrated. 

Old  Hackelberg  appeared  in  the  street  with  his 
gun,  which,  as  a  rule,  lay  buried  in  a  dung-heap, 
because  he  was  afraid  that  it  might  be  taken  away 


io6      THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

from  him,  as  had  once  happened  when  he  amused 
himself  by  shooting  bats  in  the  market-place,  de- 
claring that  they  followed  him  in  swarms  wherever 
he  went.  With  this  famous  gun  he  used  in  old 
days  to  go  out  poaching  every  night,  but  since  his 
once  unerring  hand  had  become  weak  and  tremulous 
from  drink,  he  had  been  obliged  to  give  up  the 
trade.  Only  when  he  had  drunk  even  more  than 
usual  did  the  old  sporting  instinct  rise  strongly 
within  him,  and  he  would  rush  to  the  shed,  unearth 
his  gun,  and  bring  down  a  swallow  in  full  flight 
through  the  air. 

Now  he  was  on  the  war-path,  and  with  the  bab- 
bling rhetoric  peculiar  to  him,  shouted — 

"  Schrandeners,  duty  calls !  Arm  yourselves 
against  the  traitors.  I  am  an  unhappy  father. 
Robbed  of  my  child.  I'll  shoot  him  dead,  the 
brute." 

"  But  he  is  dead,"  some  one  interposed. 

"Is  he?  Well,  it  doesn't  matter  —  the  other 
must  be  shot — all  must  be  shot  down." 

Meanwhile  Felix  Merckel  was  ramping  about  the 
parlour  of  the  Black  Eagle  like  a  bull  of  Bashan. 
He  remembered  enough  about  the  Heide  youths 
to  know  that  when  once  irritated  or  attacked  they 
would  go  any  length.  The  inevitable  result  of 
offering  them  opposition  would  be  such  bloodshed 
as  the  rioters  outside  had  no  conception  of.  And 
then — what  then  ?  Would  not  he  as  ringleader  be 
the  first  object  on  which  the  wrath  of  the  outraged 
law  would  expend  itself? 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      107 

On  the  other  hand,  did  the  swindler  who  had 
dared  under  a  false  name  to  obtain  a  lieutenancy 
and  abuse  the  confidence  of  his  comrades,  thereby 
incurring  the  contempt  and  abhorrence  of  every 
honourable  brother-in-arms — did  he  deserve  to  be 
allowed  to  score  such  a  triumph  ? 

While  his  son  was  debating  thus,  Herr  Merckel, 
senior,  was  also  troubled  with  anxiety  from  another 
cause.  It  struck  him  as  a  pity  that  such  a  quantity 
of  noble  enthusiasm  should  be  seething  about  aim- 
lessly in  the  open  air,  and  determined  to  put  an 
end  to  the  nuisance. 

He  stepped  into  the  porch,  and  addressed  the 
rabble  in  his  suavest,  most  paternal  tones. 

"  I,  as  your  local  functionary,  cannot  bear  to  see 
you,  my  children,  turning  our  public  square  into  a 
bear-garden.  Go  under  cover,  and  then  you  may 
make  as  much  noise  as  you  please." 

Of  course,  "  under  cover "  could  only  mean  the 
parlour  of  the  Black  Eagle ;  and,  five  minutes  later, 
the  consumption  of  inspiriting  stimulants  left  no- 
thing to  be  desired. 

Felix  had  bowed  his  curly  head  between  his 
hands,  and  stared  gloomily  into  his  glass. 

Surely  no  Prussian  patriot  who  had  ever  worn  a 
sword  ought  silently  to  look  on  at  what  was  coming 
to  pass  this  night  ?  Rather  die !  Rather ! 

He  jumped  up,  and  began  to  speak  inspiringly  to 
the  crowd. 

His  speech  was  not  without  effect.  One  after 
the  other  stole  out  and  returned  with  some  sort 


io8      THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

of  weapon,  a  flint -gun,  a  bent  sabre,  or  a 
scythe. 

"  Calm,  and  patriotic,  my  children ! "  exclaimed 
old  Merckel,  grinning,  and  counting  the  empty 
tankards  with  his  argus  eye. 

Night  had  come.  The  two  flaring  tallow  candles 
in  the  bar  illumined  the  overcrowded,  oppressively 
hot  room,  and  were  reflected  in  the  polished  blades 
of  the  scythes.  Then  two  or  three  boys,  who  had 
been  stationed  as  spies  on  the  drawbridge,  burst  in, 
shouting  at  the  top  of  their  voices — 

"  They're  coming !     They're  coming ! " 

There  arose  a  howl  of  fury.  Every  one  pressed 
to  the  door.  Felix  Merckel  hurried  into  his  bed- 
room to  take  his  sabre  out  of  its  scabbard,  but 
he  did  not  come  back.  Probably  the  sight  of  the 
weapon  he  had  so  often  wielded  in  honourable  war- 
fare brought  him  to  his  senses. 

His  father  continued  to  exhort  the  rioters  to 
calmness  and  caution,  especially  those  who  had  not 
yet  paid  for  their  drinks. 

"  Forwards  ! "  spluttered  old  Hackelberg,  "avenge 
my  poor  child.  Mow  them  down  ! " 

Outside,  in  the  market-place,  the  whole  popula- 
tion of  the  village  was  assembled.  Even  babies  in 
swaddling-clothes  had  been  snatched  out  of  their 
cradles,  and  their  squalling  mingled  with  the  babel 
of  many  tongues.  The  moon  came  out  from  behind 
some  clouds,  and  shed  a  pale  twilight  on  the  scene. 
The  church  tower  rose  dark  and  forbidding  against 
the  sky,  and  the  parsonage,  too,  remained  silent  and 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS      109 

dark.  The  old  veteran  had  kept  his  word.  He 
heard  and  saw  nothing  of  what  was  passing.  A 
dark-red  fiery  glow  appeared  behind  the  cottages 
that  lined  the  road  to  the  river.  Above  the  low 
roofs  rose  columns  of  thick  black  smoke.  Like  the 
reflection  from  a  conflagration  the  purple  vapour 
encroached  on  the  pale  dusk  of  the  summer  night. 

With  one  accord  the  rabble  took  the  path  to  the 
churchyard,  which,  a  few  yards  from  the  last  strag- 
gling houses,  lay  close  to  the  street.  There  by  the 
gate  they  would  best  be  able  to  bar  the  way  to  the 
invaders.  Those  who  had  been  in  the  war  fell  into 
rank  and  stood  r^ady  for  action.  As  far  as  they 
were  concerned,  it  would  be  a  case  of  soldiers  pitted 
against  soldiers. 

"  Where  is  Merckel  ?  "  one  of  them  exclaimed  in 
astonishment,  expecting  to  hear  the  lieutenant's 
word  of  command.  "  Where  is  Merckel  ? "  was 
echoed  in  consternation  from  all  sides. 

But  the  feeling  that  he  must  be  coming,  and  had 
only  gone  to  arm  himself,  allayed  any  momentary 
suspicion  of  his  having  shirked  the  business  at  the 
last.  The  lurid  glow  drew  nearer  and  nearer. 
Soon  the  eye  could  distinguish  something  black  and 
square,  framed  as  it  were  in  flames. 

"The  coffin — the  coffin!"  the  crowd  exclaimed, 
and  involuntarily  shuddered.  Then,  suddenly — 
who  began  it  no  one  knew — it  was  as  if  it  had 
flashed  across  every  brain  at  the  same  instant,  in 
a  booming  chorus  the  mob  set  up  the  weird 
chorale — 


THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS 

"  Our  noble  Baron  and  Lord 
Of  Schrandenerf  souls  abhorred; 
For  the  shame  he  has  brought  on  our  head, 
O  God,  let  the  plague  strike  him  dead." 

And  the  coffin  advanced.  Already  the  light  from 
the  torches  shone  on  the  faces  of  the  singing  mob, 
and  women  and  children  retreated  screaming. 

The  crowd  opened  wide  enough  for  the  proces- 
sion to  pass  on,  and  closed  again  behind  it.  Six 
men  carried  the  coffin  on  their  shoulders  and  swung 
flaming  pine-branches  in  their  disengaged  hands, 
which  scared  the  throng  and  made  it  draw  to  one 
side.  Six  others  followed  with  loaded  muskets. 
At  their  head  Boleslav,  with  his  pistols  cocked  in 
his  hand,  his  military  cap  on  the  back  of  his  head, 
piercing  his  antagonists  with  his  burning  gaze, 
cleared  a  road  for  his  father's  corpse.  Deeper 
became  the  rent  in  the  human  vortex,  thinner  the 
space  that  divided  the  procession  from  the  armed 
Schrandeners,  who  looked  uneasily  from  side  to 
side,  conscious  that  they  were  leaderless. 

When  Boleslav  stood  face  to  face  with  them  they 
were  about  to  make  a  forward  dash,  but  a  short 
military  "  Halt ! "  such  as  they  had  often  heard  in 
the  campaign,  compelled  them  to  take  a  step  back- 
wards instead,  for  in  spite  of  themselves,  their 
limbs  insisted  on  complying  with  the  old  habit  of 
obedience.  Boleslav,  who  had  intended  the  order 
for  the  bearers,  saw  its  effect  on  the  armed  line  in 
front  of  him,  and  suddenly  a  new  idea  occurred 
to  him. 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      in 

"  As  you  were  ' "  he  commanded  again.  No  one 
moved  a  hair.  His  manner,  his  voice  mastered 
them.  "  Which  of  you  have  been  soldiers  ?  Which 
of  you  has  helped  his  king  to  make  his  country  free?" 

An  indistinct,  half-resentful  murmur  went  through 
the  ranks,  but  there  was  no  answer. 

"The  king  sent  you  home,"  he  continued,  "be- 
cause he  is  now  at  peace  with  his  enemies.  Do 
you  suppose  that  he  would  be  pleased  to  hear  you 
had  taken  it  upon  yourselves  to  break  the  peace 
once  more  in  his  realm  ?  Bah !  he  wouldn't  be- 
lieve it  of  you !  He  might  believe  it  of  Poles,  but 
not  of  Prussians !  So  make  room,  my  good  people. 
Let  us  pass ! " 

The  line  wavered  and  began  to  break  in  places. 
For  one  moment  the  churchyard  gate  lay  clear 
before  Boleslav's  eyes,  but  the  next,  fresh  figures 
had  moved  up  from  behind  and  filled  the  breach. 

Again  the  clamour  arose,  and  mingling  ,ith  it  a 
loud,  gurgling  laugh  of  derision.  In  anot'ntr  instant 
something  round,  black,  and  polished  was  levelled 
at  Boleslav's  head,  and  behind  it  sparkled  a  pair  of 
malignant  eyes.  He  had  only  a  second  in  which 
to  realise  what  was  going  to  happen,  before  a  figure, 
supple  as  a  panther's,  shot  past  him  and  plunged 
into  the  midst  of  the  Schrandeners'  troops,  which 
again  showed  signs  of  giving  way.  In  the  hiatus 
thus  made,  Boleslav  saw  two  forms  wrestling  on  the 
ground,  one  that  of  a  woman,  the  oth«r  a  man's. 
The  woman  overpowered  her  antagonist,  and  wrested 
from  his  hand  the  gleaming  bore  of  a  gun. 


112      THE   SINS   OF   THE  FATHERS 

It  was  the  carpenter  Hackelberg  and  his  daughter. 
She  must,  stealthily  and  unobserved,  have  followed 
the  funeral  cortege,  for  since  her  disappearance  on 
the  other  side  of  the  stable  ruins  Boleslav  had  seen 
nothing  of  her.  The  crowd  pushed  forward,  curious 
to  find  out  who  was  struggling  on  the  ground,  and 
Boleslav,  promptly  taking  advantage  of  the  general 
confusion,  passed  the  combatants  and  gained  the 
churchyard  gate,  the  coffin  following  close  at  his 
he°.ls. 

Behind  was  heard  the  report  of  the  gun,  which 
exploded  in  the  hand-to-hand  struggle. 

"Guard  the  entrance!"  he  called  to  the  six  who 
followed  the  coffin,  while  the  bearers  made  their  way 
between  the  mounds  and  tombstones  to  the  burial 
vault  of  the  Barons  von  Schranden. 
,  Karl  Engelbert  stationed  himself  as  sentinel  be- 
neath the  gateway,  and  saw,  by  aid  of  the  last 
flicker  of  the  torches  as  they  moved  away,  how 
the  crowd  closed  round  the  wrestling  father  and 
daughter. 

Three  piercing  shrieks  escaped  the  girl's  lips. 
Evidently  the  mob  intended  to  wreak  its  thwarted 
fury  on  her.  There  seemed  little  doubt  that  she 
would  perish  at  its  hands,  unless  some  one  came 
quickly  to  her  help. 

"Leave  her  alone!"  cried  Engelbert,  striking  out 
right  and  left  with  his  powerful  fists.  And  then  the 
figure,  that  had  been  so  pitifully  mauled  and  in  such 
dire  extremity  till  he  interfered,  emerged  from  the 
midst  of  her  persecutors.  She  glided  past  him, 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      113 

dived  into  the  dry  ditch  that  skirted  the  churchyard 
wall,  and  then  disappeared  like  a  shadow,  into  the 
darkness.  The  Schrandeners  began,  with  whoops 
and  hoots,  to  pursue  her. 

"  How  about  the  burial  ?  "  cried  one. 

"  The  devil  take  the  burial ! "  exclaimed  another, 
and  cast  a  shy  glance  at  the  men  standing  on  guard 
by  the  churchyard  gate — men  who  looked  as  if  they 
were  not  to  be  trifled  with.  Certainly  it  was  better 
sport  to  give  chase  to  a  defenceless  creature  than  to 
risk  one's  skin  in  an  encounter  with  them. 

And  the  Schrandeners  started  off  like  blood- 
hounds. The  carpenter  Hackelberg  tried  to  do 
likewise,  but  staggered  instead  into  the  ditch,  where 
he  lay  full  length  and  fell  asleep. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  last  of  the  stone  slabs  that  covered  the  vault 
had  crunched  back  in  its  place  with  a  resounding 
crash.  Hans  Eberhard  von  Schranden  lay  with  his 
ancestors.  In  the  little  chapel,  the  men  who  had 
acted  as  grave-diggers  bared  their  heads  and  said  a 
short  prayer.  The  torches  that  had  burnt  down  to 
their  sockets  smouldered  on  the  smooth  surface  of 
the  flagstones,  and  cast  a  lurid  glow  as  they  flickered 
out  over  the  stern  faces  of  the  worshippers. 

Then  without  looking  round  at  Boleslav  they  left 
the  chapel  He  stood  in  a  remote  corner  with  his 
hands  before  his  face,  brooding  fiercely  on  the  future 
that  lay  before  him.  The  echoing  footsteps  roused 
him,  and  silently  he  followed  his  friends,  letting  the 
iron  gate  of  the  chapel  that  had  been  broken  open 
when  they  came  in,  swing  back  in  the  lock. 

The  moon  had  again  pierced  the  clouds,  and 
illumined  with  a  weird  radiance  the  mounds  and 
crosses  that  stood  in  regular  rows,  like  columns 
drawn  up  for  battle. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  bait  me  too  ?  "  Boleslav  murmured 
as  he  contemplated  the  graves  for  a  moment  with  a 
bitter  smile.  At  the  gate  he  overtook  his  friends. 
They  joined  the  men  on  guard,  who  now  had 

"4 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      115 

nothing  to  watch,  for,  with  the  exception  of  a  group 
of  women  and  old  men  who  stood  gossiping  by  the 
hedge,  the  street  was  empty.  Hoots  were  heard 
proceeding  from  the  distant  fields,  where  the  mob 
apparently  were  still  in  full  pursuit. 

"  God  have  mercy  on  her,  if  they  catch  her !  "  said 
Karl  Engelbert  with  folded  hands.  Then  two  of  his 
comrades,  one  of  whom  was  Peter  Negenthin,  came 
up  to  him  and  whispered  earnestly  in  his  ear. 

Boleslav  was  too,  lost  in  thought  to  notice  their 
strange  and  unnatural  behaviour  towards  himself, 
and  was  not  even  aware,  as  they  walked  through 
the  village,  that  he  was  always  left  to  walk  alone, 
though  now  and  then  he  stepped  confidentially  to 
the  side  of  one  or  other  of  them.  He  had  accom- 
plished the  first  chapter  of  his  work.  His  father 
was  laid  to  rest  as  befitted  his  rank,  and  yet  it 
seemed  as  if  the  real  work  was  only  just  beginning. 
He  beheld  all  he  had  to  do  towering  like  a  great 
inaccessible  mountain  in  front  of  him.  The  moulder- 
ing ruins  must  be  built  up  again ;  what  was  now 
a  waste  overgrown  by  weeds  must  be  restored  to 
a  waving  sea  of  golden  corn ;  he  must  strive  to 
endow  his  neglected  property  with  new  wealth,  and 
his  tarnished  name  with  new  honour :  and  then  he 
saw,  as  the  goal  of  all  this  striving,  the  face  of  the 
beloved  beckoning  him  onwards.  If  he  was  too 
bowed  down  now  with  a  consciousness  of  shame 
and  disgrace  to  look  into  her  pure,  maidenly  eyes, 
then  he  would  be  able  to  go  to  her  and  say,  "  Now, 
all  is  expiated.  I  am  worthy  to  lay  myself  at  your 


n6      THE  SINS    OF  THE   FATHERS 

feet."  Yes,  he  would  struggle  tooth  and  nail — work 
day  and  night — to  attain  this  end. 

At  first  it  seemed  almost  madness  to  think  of 
such  a  gigantic  undertaking.  .  .  .  But  he  had  his 
friends  to  help  him.  .  .  .  After  all,  it  would  not  be 
a  single-handed  struggle.  Had  not  they  to-day 
helped  him  to  achieve  the  impossible  ?  Would 
not  they,  true  to  their  sacred  oath,  continue  to 
stand  by  him  in  need  with  their  advice  and  sym- 
pathy ?  And  perhaps  their  noble  example  would  in 
time  break  down  the  barrier  that  divided  him  from  his 
fellow-creatures,  and  lead  to  his  father's  sin  being 
at  last  consigned  to  the  limbo  of  forgotten  history. 

Higher  and  higher  rose  his  hopes  as  he  meditated 
thus.  They  had  left  the  village  street  behind  them, 
and  now  reached  the  drawbridge,  where  the  vehicles 
had  been  put  up.  The  horses,  each  with  its  nose 
in  a  bundle  of  hay,  waited  patiently  by  the,  fence 
to  which  they  were  tethered.  Immediately,  without 
a  moment's  delay,  the  comrades  set  to  work  to 
harness  them. 

This  frightened  Boleslav  out  of  his  dream. 

"What ! "  he  exclaimed.  "Off  already,  before  I 
have  thanked  you  ?  " 

No  one  spoke. 

"  Won't  you  take  a  glass  of  wine  now  the  job  is 
finished  ?  And  I  wanted  to  ask  your  advice  about 
other  matters." 

Peter  Negenthin  strode  up,  and  looking  him 
straight  in  the  face,  drew  his  clenched  fist  from  the 
sling. 


THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS      117 

"We  would  rather  die  of  thirst,"  he  hissed 
through  his  set  teeth,  "  than  take  a  drink  of  water 
from  your  hand." 

Boleslav  staggered  backwards  as  if  he  had  been 
hit  between  the  eyes.  He  felt  the  earth  reeling 
beneath  his  feet. 

Then  Karl  Engelbert  stepped  forth  from  his  sullen 
little  band. 

"  It  is  much  to  be  deplored,  Baumgart — I  call  you 
so  because  you  have  been  Baumgart  to  us  till  this 
minute — it  is  much  to  be  deplored  that  you  should 
thus  be  bluntly  told  of  what  our  present  feelings  are 
towards  you.  Why  did  not  you  hold  your  tongue, 
Negenthin  ?  .  .  .  But  the  words  have  been  spoken 
and  cannot  be  recalled,  so  now  you  may  as  well 
know  all.  You  summoned  us,  and  we  came.  Some 
of  us,  it  is  true,  were  of  opinion  that  we  weren't 
obliged  to  obey  your  summons,  considering  you  had 
deceived  us  about  your  name ;  but  others  said, 
whether  it  was  Baumgart  or  no,  we  were  bound  by 
the  oath  taken  in  the  church  at  Dannigkow,  after 
our  first  battle — and  none  of  us  were  desirous  of 
breaking  an  oath.  That  is  why  we  are  here.  You 
can  imagine  that  we  didn't  come  willingly.  We  are 
honest  fellows,  and  to  tell  the  truth,  the  work  you 
gave  us  to  do  went  against  the  grain.  The  long 
and  short  of  it  is,  that  when  we  go  home,  and 
people  spit  in  our  faces,  we  must  put  up  with  it, 
for  they  will  have  right  on  their  side." 

"  Why  didn't  you  say  all  this  before  ?  "  Boleslav 
stammered  forth.  "Why,  oh  why  have  you  let  it 


n8      THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS 

come  to  my  standing  here  before  you — like  a — like 
a — Ha !  ha  !  ha !  If  you  spit  in  my  face,  I  must 
put  up  with  it  /  " 

"  You  need  not  reproach  yourself  on  our  account," 
Engelbert  replied.  "You  have  quite  enough  to 
bear  without  that.  But  now  that  we  have  dis- 
charged our  duty — without  grumbling,  you  must 
admit — I  can  only  ask  you,  on  behalf  of  myself  and 
my  comrades,  to  release  us  from  our  oath,  as  we 
release  you  from  yours.  Of  course  we  cannot 
compel  you  against  your  wish,  but  all  I  can  say 
is,  that  if  you  don't  choose  to  do  it,  we  must  leave 
home  and  kindred,  and  wander  forth  into  the  world, 
lest  people " 

"  Stop ! "  cried  Boleslav,  feeling  as  if  more  would 
kill  him.  "Your  desire  is  fulfilled.  I  now  wish 
it  as  earnestly  as  you  do.  Of  a  truth  I  should 
deserve  my  disgrace,  were  I  ever  to  ask  another 
favour  of  you.  ...  I  will  not  even  insult  you  by 
saying  'Many  thanks'  for  the  service  you  have 
just  rendered  me.  May  God  reward  you,  and  may 
He  forgive  you  for  having  put  me  in  my  present 
position;  rather  would  I  have  thrown  the  corpse 
into  the  river  and  myself  after  it;  let  us  say  no 
more.  Perhaps  you  will  allow  me  to  assist  in 
putting  the  horses  in,  as  there  is  nothing  else  I  can 
do  for  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  sorry,"  Engelbert  said,  his  voice  quivering 
with  emotion;  "it  pains  us  deeply.  We  are  as 
fond  of  you  yourself  as  we  have  ever  been — but, 
you  see " 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      119 

"  I  see  all,  dear  Engelbert ;  no  excuses  are 
necessary." 

"  Well  then,  we  wish  you  farewell." 

"  Farewell ! " 

The  horses  were  put  in.  All  were  in  readiness  to 
start.  Staring  vacantly  before  him,  Boleslav  leant 
against  the  wall.  Engelbert  turned  and  took  a  last 
look  at  him  from  the  box-seat. 

"  And  don't  forget  Regina !  "  he  said.  "  That  is 
to  say,  if  she  escapes  with  her  life.  It  is  to  her, 
not  to  us,  you  are  indebted." 

"Very  well,"  answered  Boleslav,  not  taking  in 
the  meaning  of  what  had  been  said  to  him. 

"Adieu!" 

"  Adieu,  and  bon  voyage  !  " 

The  drivers  cracked  their  whips;  in  another 
moment  the  heavy  wheels  had  thundered  over  the 
loose  flooring  of  the  drawbridge.  Like  silver-girt 
phantoms  the  coaches  disappeared  in  the  misty 
moonlight. 

He  was  alone — more  alone  than  any  outcast  in 
God's  wide  world.  What  should  he  do  ? 

He  began  wearily  to  drag  his  footsteps  up  the 
incline.  The  brambles  that  tangled  the  ground 
wound  round  his  ankles.  A  firefly  made  a  zig- 
zag thread  of  flame  in  front  of  him.  From  the  top 
of  the  hill  the  great,  weird,  dark  masses  of  the 
Castle  ruins  looked  down  on  him,  as  if  threatening 
to  fall  on  him  and  bury  him  beneath  their  debris. 
Through  the  yawning  window-casements  the  moon 
shone,  giving  them  the  appearance  of  huge  ghostly 


120      THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

eyes.  He  roamed  absently  past  the  towers,  a  sudden 
exhaustion  weighing  like  lead  upon  his  limbs.  If 
only  he  could  fall  asleep  and  never  wake  again. 

He  tried  to  remember  what  it  was  his  friend  had 
called  out  to  him  from  the  coach  at  parting.  He 
racked  and  racked  his  brains,  but  his  memory  failed 
him. 

The  grass  plot,  where  he  had  first  found  the  half- 
wild  girl,  lay  before  him  brightly  illumined  by  the 
moon.  The  spot  where  she  had  begun  to  dig  the 
grave  stood  out  in  uncanny  blackness  from  the  rest 
of  the  shining  turf. 

If  only  he  had  shovelled  the  corpse  into  it  and 
gone  on  his  way,  perhaps  somewhere  at  the  other 
end  of  the  world  some  sort  of  happiness  might  still 
have  been  in  store  for  him. 

But  now  it  was  too  late.  Now  all  he  could  do 
was  to  endure — to  complete  the  work  of  defiance 
begun  to-day  under  such  gloomy  circumstances. 
Desolate  and  alone  till  the  end.  Never  to  feel  again 
the  clasp  of  a  friendly  hand,  never  to  look  with  trust 
and  affection  into  any  human  face,  since  the  doughty 
comrades  he  had  so  firmly  believed  in  had  recoiled 
from  him  shuddering. 

And  had  not  the  beloved  shrunk  from  him  too  in 
horror  ?  It  seemed  clear  now  for  the  first  time  why 
she  had  avoided  him  and  hidden  herself. 

He  was  cut  adrift  from  all  the  joys  and  sorrows 
that  form  a  common  bond  between  the  hearts  of 
men — cut  adrift  from  love,  hope,  compassion,  from 
everything  but  ignominy  and  hate. 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS      121 

With  his  face  buried  in  his  hands,  he  staggered 
over  the  lawn  in  the  direction  of  the  gardener's  cot- 
tage, when  his  foot  struck  against  something  round 
and  soft  that  lay  across  the  path.  It  was  the  figure 
of  a  woman,  lying  with  her  head  buried  in  the  dry 
leaves  and  her  limbs  outstretched.  Regina — posi- 
tively it  was  Regina! 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?     Get  up." 

There  was  not  a  sound  or  a  movement.  Where 
had  he  seen  her  last  ?  Ah  !  to  be  sure ;  under  the 
churchyard  gateway,  screening  him  from  the  gun 
that  was  pointed  at  his  brain.  That  ghastly  moment 
came  back  to  him  with  all  its  terrors.  For  his  sake 
she  had  flung  herself  on  the  murderer ;  for  his  sake 
risked  her  life.  And  how  had  he  rewarded  her? 
He  had  pushed  carelessly  past  her;  consigned  her 
to  the  mercy  of  the  murderous,  bloodthirsty  crew 
who  were  greedy  to  take  her  life,  without  a  shadow 
of  a  thought  of  how  he  might  save  her  troubling 
him  for  an  instant.  Even  if  she  were  the  most 
abandoned  creature  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  she 
had  not  deserved  such  dastardly  treatment  at  his 
hands.  Certainly  she  had  not. 

"  Regina,  wake  up." 

He  bent  over  her  and  raised  her,  but  her  head 
fell  back  lifeless  among  the  bushes.  There  was 
blood  on  his  fingers  from  touching  her.  Her  hair 
was  damp  and  matted. 

Was  she  dead  ?  No ;  it  must  not,  could  not 
be.  Sacrificed  for  him;  that  would  mean  adding 
original  guilt  to  the  sin  he  had  inherited,  and  the 


122      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

idea  of  owing  so  much  to  such  a  degraded  creature, 
was  in  the  last  degree  humiliating.  She  must  at 
least  live  till  he  had  paid  her.  He  tore  open  her 
chemise  with  a  rough,  eager  hand,  and  laid  his  ear 
on  the  cool,  rounded  breast. 

God  be  praised !  Her  heart  was  still  beating.  And 
as  he  raised  her  once  more,  she  slowly  opened  her 
great  eyes  and  looked  round  her  vacantly.  As  if 
shocked  at  being  caught  holding  her  thus,  he  let  her 
head  slip  out  of  his  arms. 

She  moaned  slightly  as  she  sank  back,  for  the 
swaying  briars  hurt  her.  Then  regaining  conscious- 
ness, she  lifted  herself  on  her  elbow  and  gazed  at 
him  in  dumb  inquiry. 

"Get  up,  Regina,"  he  said. 

The  sound  of  his  voice  made  her  tremble.  She 
tried  to  struggle  on  to  her  feet,  but  fell  back  help- 
lessly. 

•'Let  me  lie  where  I  am,"  she  begged,  with  a 
timid,  imploring  glance. 

"Stand  up.    I  will  help  you." 

"Must  I  go?"  she  asked,  evading  the  proffered 
support.  Grief  and  anxiety  were  depicted  on  her 
blood-stained,  beautiful  face. 

"You  would  rather  stay  with  me?" 

"Ah,  Herr,  how  can  you  ask?" 

"But  you'll  have  a  bad  time  of  it  if  you  do." 

"Oh,  no,  Herr.  The  gnadiger  Herr  used  to  whip 
me  every  day.  I  am  quite  accustomed  to  it." 

"But  somewhere  else  they  would  treat  you 
better." 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      123 

"  Somewhere  else  ?  "  New  consternation  showed 
itself  on  her  features. 

"  Good  God  !  A  woman  like  you,  who  is  willing 
and  hard-working,  and  has  such  strong  limbs,  is 
sure " 

She  shook  her  head  violently.  "I  shouldn't  go 
far,  Herr.  If  you  hunt  me  away,  I  shall  only  lie 
down  in  a  ditch  and  starve  to  death." 

A  softer  look  came  into  his  eyes.  No  matter  how 
bad,  stupid,  and  corrupt  she  might  be,  she  was  the 
only  human  being  in  the  wide  world  who  clung  to 
him.  Why  should  he  drive  her  from  his  threshold, 
when  he  himself  was  despised,  ostracised,  and  a 
social  outcast  ?  Were  they  not  both  under  the  ban 
of  the  same  misfortune  ? 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  next  few  days  proved  how  little  he  was  in 
a  position  to  live  on  his  own  estate  without  her 
services.  He  was  far  more  dependent  on  her  than 
she  on  him.  Helpless  as  a  shipwrecked  mariner  on 
a  desert  island,  he  stole  about  the  ancestral  grounds. 
Though  the  mines  and  wolfs'-traps  no  longer  dogged 
his  steps,  finding  his  way  among  the  chaos  of  smoked 
and  tumbling  walls  made  him  giddy,  and  decay  had 
altered  everything  so  much,  that  the  landmarks  of 
his  childish  memories  afforded  him  no  assistance. 
Even  the  park,  where  once  he  had  known  every  tree 
and  bush,  through  long  years  of  neglect,  had  become 
such  a  wilderness  that  at  every  step  he  nearly  lost 
himself  in  it. 

When  the  first  flush  of  his  defiance  and  despair 
had  subsided,  the  question  arose,  "  What  was  he  to 
do  next  ?  "  It  was  a  problem  that  pressed  for  solution, 
as  the  miserable  rations  of  bread  and  meat  in  the 
cellars  were  running  out. 

His  pride  prevented  his  seeking  advice  from 
Regina;  he  had  not  spoken  to  her  again.  Appar- 
ently she  understood  the  wisdom  of  making  herself 
scarce.  But  when  he  returned  of  a  morning  from 
the  river,  where  he  went  for  a  bath,  he  found  the 


THE   SINS   OB     THE   FATHERS      125 

red-flowered  counterpane  of  the  canopied  bed  neatly 
arranged,  the  floor  swept,  and  strewn  with  sand  and 
fragrant  fir  spikes,  and  saw  awaiting  him  on  the 
gold-legged  table  (the  fourth  leg  of  which  was 
propped  up  with  a  brick)  a  steaming  brown  coffee- 
pot, and  dainty  slices  of  black  bread  lying  beside  it. 

His  shyness  at  taking  food  from  her  hands  had 
soon  to  be  got  over.  At  first  he  had  still  hesitated 
a  little  to  break  bread  that  she  had  brought  him,  but 
it  looked  so  appetising,  and  bathing  in  the  cold 
autumn  mornings  sharpened  his  hunger,  that  at  last 
his  scruples  had  gone  to  the  wall. 

At  midday,  a  soup  made  of  bread,  and  slices  of 
roast  meat,  stood  ready  for  him,  not  to  mention  a 
bottle  of  good  wine ;  and  in  the  evening,  by  some 
clever  stratagem,  another  meal  of  a  different  character 
was  contrived  out  of  the  same  unpromising  materials. 
Thus  she  knew  how  to  keep  house  with  nothing  but 
the  scanty  larder  he  had  found  in  the  cellar  at  her 
disposal. 

He  often  saw  her  whisk  past  the  window  with 
pots  and  kettles,  on  her  way  to  wash  them  in  the 
river.  When  she  came  back  she  would  cautiously 
peer  with  her  lustrous  eyes  through  the  shrubs,  to 
ascertain  whether  the  coast  was  clear.  If  he  hap- 
pened to  be  at  the  door,  or  looking  out  of  the 
window,  she  would  immediately  disappear  in  the 
wood. 

She  made  the  gardener's  former  workshop  her 
domain.  One  morning  when  he  had  watched  her 
go  down  to  the  river,  he  went  in  to  look  at  it.  He 


126      THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

found  a  low,  sloping  room,  with  a  roof  composed  of 
old  greenhouse  frames.  The  green,  dusty,  lead- 
bordered  panes  were  much  cracked,  and  in  places 
let  in  the  winds  and  rains  of  heaven.  The  ground 
was  neither  floored  nor  paved,  but  covered  with  a 
dark  moist  garden  soil  resembling  peat.  Attached 
to  the  walls  were  rude  wooden  shelves,  once  used 
by  the  gardener  for  his  flower-pots.  They  now 
held  all  the  house's  scanty  stock  of  crockery.  Pots, 
plates,  and  dishes  were  arranged  on  them  in  perfect 
order,  and  had  been  polished  till  they  shone.  A 
blackened  door  off  its  hinges,  evidently  rescued 
from  the  fire,  supported  by  two  wooden  boxes  about 
two  feet  from  the  ground,  was  spread  with  straw 
and  a  haircloth,  of  the  kind  that  are  thrown  over 
the  backs  of  horses  to  protect  them  from  cold. 
This  was  her  bed — "  Many  a  dog  has  a  better," 
he  thought.  The  brick  fireplace  was  in  the  oppo- 
site corner  ;  a  home-made  contrivance  of  beams  was 
meant  to  guide  the  belching  smoke  from  the  hearth 
into  its  proper  channel,  but  only  partially  succeeded. 

In  this  smoky  hole,  with  its  cold  damp  floor,  she 
was  domiciled,  and  desired  nothing  better.  Here 
her  heart  was  centred  as  in  a  dearly  cherished 
Paradise.  Poor,  wretched  woman !  and  to  be  driven 
forth  from  it  meant  to  her  death  and  perdition. 

And  then  one  evening  she  disappeared.  He  had 
at  last  made  up  his  mind  to  speak  to  her  about  the 
provisions,  and  went  to  call  her.  No  answer  came. 
The  kitchen  was  empty.  He  sought  her  in  the 
park,  among  the  ruins,  on  the  bridge,  all  over  the 


THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS      127 

island,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  her.  Her  name  rang 
clearly  out  through  the  night  air  as  he  called  her,  and 
had  she  been  anywhere  about  she  must  have  heard 
it.  He  became  suspicious.  Probably  after  the  hard 
work  of  her  lonely  days,  she  took  it  out  at  night  in 
the  arms  of  a  swain.  She  was,  of  course,  well  versed 
in  the  arts  of  vice,  and  would  not  scruple  to  yield 
herself  to  the  embraces  of  some  rustic  gallant. 
Many  of  her  persecutors  below  may  have  desired 
the  body  they  stoned.  How  otherwise  could  her  ob- 
stinate adherence  to  her  present  miserable  mode  of 
living,  after  his  father's  death,  be  explained,  except 
by  the  existence  of  a  new  sin — a  sin  which,  per- 
haps, had  long  been  carried  on  hand-in-hand  with 
the  old.  He  was  filled  with  loathing  and  disgust 
at  the  thought. 

"  If  she  can't  behave  herself,  I'll  pack  her  off 
early  to-morrow  morning ;  "  and  with  this  resolution 
he  retired  to  rest.  But  he  could  not  sleep  for 
thinking  of  what  the  future  would  be  without  her. 
To  send  her  away  would  involve  going  himself  the 
same  day. 

At  about  six  o'clock  he  was  awakened  out  of  a 
doze  by  a  stealthy  opening  of  the  outer  door.  He 
got  up  and  dressed  himself  quickly,  determined  to 
call  her  to  account  without  loss  of  time.  He  en- 
tered the  kitchen  and  found  her  on  the  hearth  with 
inflated  cheeks,  blowing  the  pine  logs  she  had  just 
set  alight  into  a  flame. 

She  turned  on  him  slowly,  her  eyes  big  with  as- 
tonishment, and  said,  " Good  morning,  Herr" 


128      THE   SINS   OF  THE  FATHERS 

He  trembled  in  angry  excitement.  "Where  have 
you  been  all  night  ?"  he  thundered. 

Her  arms  fell  to  her  sides,  and  she  shrank  away 
terrified. 

'Tell  me  at  once." 

"Ah,  Herr,"  she  stuttered,  hanging  her  head,  "I 
thought  you  wouldn't  notice  I  had  gone,  and  that  I 
should  be  back  before  the  Herr  was  awake " 

"So,  if  I  don't  notice,  you  amuse  yourself  by  run* 
ning  about  all  night?" 

She  had  retreated  still  farther  from  him. 

"But — but — I  was  obliged  to  go,"  she  said,  stam- 
mering painfully.  "There  was  scarcely  anything 
at  all  left — and — and  the  Herr  has  eaten  nothing 
but  salt  meat  for  so  long." 

The  scales  fell  from  his  eyes. 

"You  went,  then,  to  fetch  food?" 

"Of  course,  Herr.  I  have  brought  veal  and  fresh 
eggs  and  butter — and  sausage  and  lots  of  things. 
It's  all  in  the  cellar." 

"Where  did  you  get  it?" 

"Oh,  I  told  you,  Herr — in  Bockeldorf.  I  know 
a  grocer  there,  who  gets  ready  a  supply  of  what  we 
want  beforehand,  and  when  I  knock  at  nights  he 
lets  me  in  at  the  back  door.  Not  a  living  soul  be- 
sides his  wife  knows.  And  he's  not  very  dear.  Herr 
Merckel,  down  in  the  village,  charges  a  thaler  a 
pound  for  meat,  and  swears  at  me  into  the  bargain." 

"And  you  have  walked  six  miles  there  and  back 
to-night,  and  carried  all  those  heavy  parcels?" 

Still  frightened,  she  regarded  him  with  surprise. 


THE  SINS   OF    THE   FATHERS      129 

"  I  think  you  know,  Herr,  that  I  can  do  it,  for  I  told 
you  so  before." 

"  But  it's  a  physical  impossibility.  Don't  lie 
to  me,  girl.  From  my  experience  during  the  cam- 
paign, I  know  how  much  fatigue  a  man  can 
stand." 

Now  that  she  saw  he  was  no  longer  angry  she 
dared  to  draw  herself  to  her  full  height.  She  ex- 
hibited her  powerful  arms  proudly,  and  exclaimed 
with  a  pleased  smile — 

"  I  can  stand  more  than  any  man,  Herr,  else  I 
should  be  no  good  at  all." 

"  For  how  long  have  you  been  going  on  these 
journeys,  Regina?" 

"  For  five  years,  Herr.  Every  week.  Sometimes 
oftener.  In  summer  it's  child's  play.  But  in 
autumn  and  winter,  when  the  snow  lies  two  feet 
thick  in  the  wood,  or  when  the  meadows  are  flooded, 
it's  no  joke.  But  there's  one  thing  to  be  thankful 
for,  the  nights  are  long  then,  and  at  least  no  one 
can  see  you.  And  I'd  a  hundred  times  rather  walk 
the  six  miles  than  go  to  that  beast — I  beg  pardon, 
I  mean  Herr  Merckel — who  takes  a  thaler  for  a 
pound  of  meat.  Isn't  that  abominable  ?  And  in 
the  village " 

She  paused  suddenly,  as  if  she  feared  being  scolded 
for  talking  too  much. 

"  What  were  you  going  to  say,  Regina  ? "  he 
asked  in  a  kindlier  tone. 

"  Oh,  nothing,  but  I  should  like  to  beg  the  Herr"s 
pardon  for  having  gone  without  leave.  But  I  thought 

I* 


130      THE  SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

he  might  perhaps  like  a  change  for  breakfast — a 
fresh  egg " 

"  Never  mind,  Regina,"  he  said,  turning  away ; 
"you  are  a  good  girl." 

He  went  down  to  the  river  to  bathe.  When  he 
came  back  he  found  his  room  tidied  as  usual,  only 
the  coffee  was  not  there. 

"  She  is  so  tired  out  that  she's  fallen  asleep,"  he 
thought,  and  resigned  himself  to  wait.  At  least, 
she  should  not  be  reprimanded  any  more  to-day. 

But  in  consequence  of  his  bath  he  was  bitterly 
cold,  and  found  he  could  not  forego  the  customary 
warm  beverage  much  longer.  So,  in  order  not  to 
wake  her  he  went  on  tiptoe  into  the  kitchen  to  see 
to  the  fire  himself.  But  she  was  not  asleep,  though 
at  the  first  glance  it  looked  like  it  She  sat  on  the 
edge  of  her  couch,  motionless,  with  her  hands  before 
her  face.  Now  and  again  a  quiver  passed  through 
her  frame,  a  symptom  of  the  sleep  of  exhaustion. 
Yet  on  regarding  her  closer,  he  saw  that  glistening 
tear-drops  were  falling  through  her  red,  plump  fingers, 
and  her  breast  was  shaking  with  gurgling  sobs. 

"What's  the  matter,  Regina?  Why  are  you 
crying  ?  " 

She  did  not  answer,  but  her  sobs  became  louder. 

"  Have  I  hurt  your  feelings,  Regina  ?  I  shouldn't 
have  scolded  you  if  I  had  known  where  you  had 
been." 

She  let  her  hands  fall  from  her  face,  and  looked 
at  him  with  eyes  swollen  from  weeping. 

"  Ah,  Herr  !  "  she  said  in  a  voice  half  choked  by 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS      131 

tears.  "  No  one — ever — called  me  that  before ;  and 
—it's  not — true." 

His  mood  changed  and  became  harsh  again.  He 
was  not  conscious  of  having  used  any  abusive  epi- 
thet. It  was  too  ridiculous  of  this  creature,  who  was 
accustomed  to  being  hounded  about  from  pillar  to 
post,  to  pretend  to  be  thin-skinned  and  fastidious. 

"  What  isn't  true  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  What  you  said." 

"  What  did  I  say  ?     Good  heavens  ! " 

"That  I — I  was  a  good "  She  broke  again 

into  convulsive  sobs  that  stifled  her  voice. 

He  shook  his  head,  perplexed  at  her  distress. 
He  had  never  looked  very  deeply  into  the  most 
complex  problems  of  the  human  soul,  and  did  not 
know  that  even  dishonour  has  its  code  of  honour. 
Laughing,  he  laid  his  hand  on  her  shoulder. 

"  Don't  cry  any  more,  Regina ;  I  meant  no  harm. 
And  now  get  my  breakfast  ready." 

"  May — I — bring  it  in  ?  "  she  asked,  still  sobbing. 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  come  and  fetch  it  ?  " 

"  I  only  thought  I  mightn't — "  She  moved  to 
the  hearth  and  began  blowing  the  smouldering  fire, 
using  her  tear-stained  cheeks  as  bellows. 

After  that  she  was  no  longer  shy  of  entering  his 
room  when  he  was  there.  Ever  anxious  to  forestall 
his  wishes,  she  seemed  to  read  his  countenance 
without  a  question  passing  her  lips. 

Boleslav  had  found,  in  the  recesses  of  the  cellar 
in  which  money  and  wine  were  stored,  great  masses 
of  papers  stuffed  into  chests,  where  chaos  reigned 


132      THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS 

supreme.  They  contained  the  whole  of  his  father'* 
correspondence,  deeds,  and  documents  of  every 
description.  His  first  search  among  them  had 
brought  to  light  nothing  less  important  than  his 
aunt's  last  will  and  testament,  in  which  her  Excel- 
lency bequeathed  to  Boleslav  von  Schranden,  the 
only  son  of  her  favourite  niece,  the  whole  of  her 
fortune,  "  to  compensate  him  for  the  wrong,"  so 
ran  the  clause,  "  from  which  he  would  suffer  to  the 
end  of  his  days." 

Boleslav's  pleasure  at  first  was  not  great ;  it  was 
only  when  he  considered  that  here  was  a  weapon 
put  into  his  hand  to  use  in  the  coming  struggle, 
that  he  began  to  appreciate  the  value  of  the  gift. 
He  scarcely  gave  a  thought  to  the  giver,  who  had 
always  been  kindness  itself  to  him,  so  hardened 
had  he  become,  so  completely  was  his  mind  en- 
grossed by  contemplation  of  the  grim  work  that  it 
was  his  duty  to  carry  on. 

If  only  he  could  have  seen  a  way  clear  before 
him,  which  he  could  have  pursued  instantly,  with- 
out looking  to  the  right  or  left,  with  the  impetuous 
zeal  characteristic  of  his  nature !  But  for  months 
the  prospect  must  be  one  of  paralysing  hopeless 
inaction.  The  war  which  he  had  determined  to 
wage  against  the  Schrandeners  must  be  conducted 
on  an  ambitious  scale,  if  it  were  not  to  end  in  the 
pitiful  failure  that  had  soured  and  impoverished  the 
last  years  of  his  father's  life.  It  would  need  an 
army  of  workmen  to  inspire  the  serfs,  who  had  so 
long  run  wild,  with  new  respect  And  where  were 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS      133 

these  to  be  engaged,  when  there  was  not  a  soul  in 
the  neighbourhood  who  would  not  have  disdained  to 
enter  his  service  ?  But  nearly  everything  is  attain- 
able with  money,  and  doubtless  many  a  swaggering 
patriot,  who  now  spat  at  the  mention  of  his  name, 
could  be  brought,  cringing  and  servile,  to  heel,  by 
the  bribe  of  a  triple  wage.  Only,  for  this  his 
means  were  not  sufficient.  The  cash  that  at  the  first 
glance  had  seemed  such  vast  wealth,  proved,  on 
nearer  calculation,  to  be  wholly  inadequate  to  float 
his  scheme.  It  was  4500  thalers,  left  from  out- 
standing debts,  that  the  old  baron  had  hastily  saved 
from  the  conflagration,  when  the  whole  world  must 
have  appeared  to  him  to  be  melting  into  flame. 
For  the  sort  of  existence  that,  following  his  father's 
example,  he  was  now  leading  with  Regina,  such  a 
sum  would  last  for  years ;  but  for  the  project  he 
had  in  view,  it  was  a  mere  drop  in  the  ocean. 

Before  the  discovery  of  the  will  he  had  with  a 
heavy  heart  entertained  the  idea  of  offering  the  fine 
old  timber,  which  had  been  the  pride  of  his  ances- 
tors, for  sale,  and  to  dispose  of  it  below  its  value  if 
the  need  arose.  Now  he  had  abandoned  the  plan 
as  impracticable.  Granted  that  he  could  find  a 
market  for  it  as  easily  as  he  hoped,  it  must  be 
months  before  the  actual  cash  came  into  his  hands. 
Besides  winter  was  at  hand,  one  of  those  severe 
East  Prussian  winters,  when  work  in  the  open  air  is 
out  of  the  question.  For  this  year  at  least  neither 
building  nor  ploughing  was  to  be  thought  of.  Why, 
then,  make  a  sacrifice  which  with  a  little  patience 


134      THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

might  be  avoided  altogether  ?  If  on  the  first  of 
April  he  claimed  his  legacy,  and  was  able  with  full 
pockets  to  enlist  workers  in  his  service,  by  May  the 
building  would  be  in  full  swing,  and  possibly  the 
ground  ready  for  the  sowing  of  crops. 

But  till  then — till  then — !  How  would  he  be  able 
to  support  the  barren  monotony  of  grey  winter  days 
spent  in  enforced  and  dreary  idleness  when  his 
hands  were  burning  to  be  at  work  ?  How  endure 
the  thought  that  his  beloved  was  in  the  near  neigh- 
bourhood and  he  unable  to  ask  her  the  fateful 
question  on  which  his  life  and  happiness  hung? 
Would  she  wait  ?  Would  she  forgive  ?  Would 
she  steel  her  heart  against  the  atmosphere  of  hate 
and  slander  that  surrounded  her,  and  so  keep  her 
affection  for  him  unchanged  ? 

The  Madonna  in  the  cathedral  came  back  to  him. 
He  wondered  if  she  still  resembled  it.  If  only 
for  one  moment  he  might  have  gazed  into  her  face  ! 
There  was  a  white  and  red  mist  before  his  eyes ;  he 
saw  lilies  and  roses,  and  a  radiant  virgin  figure 
bending  over  them  with  a  smile,  but  the  features 
of  the  girl  he  had  loved  he  could  only  dimly 
recall. 

Veiled  from  his  sight,  perhaps  she  was  destined 
to  be  the  invisible  guardian-angel  who  was  to  watch 
over  his  endeavours  till  his  work  was  completed, 
when  she  would  set  the  crown  to  it  by  revealing 
herself.  He  became  gradually  reconciled  to  the 
thought,  and  ceased  to  yearn  for  a  meeting ;  and  one 
word  or  sign  to  assure  him  that  his  hopes  in  her 


THE   SINS    OF  THE   FATHERS      135 

constancy  were  not  ill-founded  would  have  more 
than  satisfied  him. 

More  and  more  he  buried  himself  in  the  chaos  of 
papers,  which  seemed  to  increase  instead  of  diminish, 
in  spite  of  his  arduous  sifting.  The  yellowed  parch- 
ments stood  in  great  piles  against  the  wall  of  his 
sitting-room,  reaching  higher  than  the  head  of  his 
beautiful  grandmother,  and  yet  in  the  vaults  there 
still  remained  chests  and  boxes  full,  untouched. 
The  whole  archives  of  the  family  seemed  to  have 
been  gathered  together  at  a  moment's  notice,  and 
hurled  into  a  place  of  safety  without  the  slightest 
regard  to  method  or  arrangement.  Out  of  this 
confusion  he  wanted  to  find  documents  relating 
to  the  property,  which  were  important,  not  to  say 
indispensable.  Among  others,  were  missing  those 
that  concerned  agreements  with  the  emancipated 
peasants  relating  to  land  boundaries.  The  canaille 
below  were  certain  to  have  grabbed  from  the  do- 
main that  had  become  ownerless,  more  than  their 
legal  share.  He  saw  how  law-suits  would  have 
to  be  fought  over  almost  every  inch  of  ground,  and 
he  must  be  able  to  back  his  claim  with  irrefragable 
documentary  proof. 

Nevertheless  he  felt  an  insuperable  aversion  to 
appealing  to  the  courts.  The  picture  of  his  father, 
as  he  had  seen  him  the  last  time  alive,  stood  out 
vividly  in  his  memory;  the  ostracised  baron,  who 
had  been  bold  enough  to  seek  the  aid  of  the  law, 
had  then  found  every  door  closed  in  his  face.  Truly 
Prussia  at  that  time  was  not  itself.  The  walls  of 


136      THE   SINS    OF   THE   FATHERS 

the  State  were  tottering  to  their  foundations,  and 
the  rats  were  having  it  all  their  ov/n  way.  But  what 
guarantee  was  there  that  the  son  of  such  a  father 
would  find  the  ear  of  justice  less  deaf  to  his  appeal  ? 
The  law  had  shifts  and  resources  in  plenty  by  which 
an  unpopular  person  could  be  rendered  powerless 
to  benefit  by  its  help,  and  he  did  not  doubt  that  he 
would  fall  a  victim  to  such  casuistry.  His  deserted 
and  forlorn  position  so  distorted  his  view  of  things 
that  law  and  order  took  the  form  of  wild  beasts 
lying  on  the  drawbridge  in  ambush  for  their  prey. 
Even  his  military  duties  had  no  interest  for  him 
now.  Lieutenant  Baumgart  was  on  the  list  of 
killed.  Why  trouble  the  authorities  with  the  work 
of  his  resurrection  ?  They  would  not  thank  him 
for  it 

A  text  from  the  Bible  came  into  his  mind :  "  His 
hand  shall  be  against  every  man,  and  every  man's 
hand  against  him."  The  curse  that  accompanied 
Hagar's  son  through  life,  he  by  dint  of  stubborn 
defiance  would  turn  into  a  blessing. 

Weeks  went  by,  but  he  hardly  observed  the 
flight  of  time.  He  sat  immersed  day  after  day  in 
his  papers,  wandering  forth  of  an  evening  to  stumble 
about  the  ruins,  or  to  take  a  walk  in  the  overgrown 
park.  There  was  only  one  place  he  carefully 
avoided.  That  was  the  path  which  led  to  the 
Cats'  Bridge.  When  he  chanced  to  find  himself 
nearing  it,  his  heart  beat  quicker,  and  he  would 
hurry  breathlessly  by  the  shrubs  that  concealed  it 
from  view.  Yet  he  was  tormented  by  a  grim  desire 


THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS      137 

to  stand  on  the  scene  of  the  disaster,  a  desire  which 
at  length  became  almost  irrepressible. 

It  was  one  evening  towards  the  end  of  September 
when,  for  the  first  time  since  his  return  home,  the 
moon  was  full.  He  roamed  restlessly  in  the  glades 
of  the  park,  the  dry  leaves  rustled  at  his  feet,  and 
the  autumn  wind  shook  the  branches  of  the  trees. 
The  moonbeams  shimmered  on  the  grass  like 
flocks  of  white  sheep.  Before  him  the  shrubs  rose 
in  a  dark,  jagged  line  of  wall.  An  impulse  of  sinister 
curiosity  suddenly  got  the  better  of  the  superstitious 
repugnance  that  had  hitherto  held  him  back,  and  he 
plunged  through  the  thicket  that,  with  a  sort  of 
protecting  air,  hid  the  path.  The  descent  to  the 
river  was  steep,  almost  perpendicular,  and  the 
mirror-like  surface  of  the  water  was  entirely  con- 
cealed by  alder-bushes.  A  faint  rippling  and  splash- 
ing below  fell  mysteriously  on  his  ear.  From  the 
top  of  the  precipice  a  railed  plank  shot  boldly  out 
into  mid-air.  A  rude  scaffolding,  planted  firmly  in 
the  rock  of  the  precipice,  supported  it  with  iron  bars. 
On  the  opposite  bank  the  trunk  of  a  giant  oak 
formed  the  support.  In  the  middle  there  was  a 
yawning  gap  of  from  ten  to  twelve  feet.  Like  two 
arms  longingly  outstretched  but  never  meeting,  the 
planks  branched  forth  on  either  side  above  the 
abysmal  depths. 

If  they  had  never  reached  each  other  the  crime 
would  never  have  come  to  pass.  But  an  easier  job 
for  a  joiner  could  not  be  conceived.  The  plank  on 
this  side  had  two  loose  boards,  which,  by  means  of 


138      THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

a  wedge,  could  easily  be  pushed  across;  and  the 
position  of  the  hand-rail,  by  being  unhinged,  could 
also  be  reversed.  Everything  seemed  to  have  been 
arranged  expressly  to  facilitate  the  treacherous 
transaction.  As  a  memorial  of  eternal  shame,  the 
dark,  crude  structure  loomed  out  through  the  white 
mists  of  the  brilliant  night. 

Beneath,  the  splashing  from  the  invisible  river 
grew  more  pronounced.  It  sounded  as  if  its  waters 
were  still  foaming  with  rage  at  the  deed  that  so 
long  ago  had  been  enacted  near  at  hand,  and  which 
death  itself  could  not  consign  to  oblivion. 

Like  a  man  in  a  dream,  he  stepped  on  to  the 
plank,  and  looked  down  on  the  silver  surface,  which 
seemed  to  be  emitting  myriads  of  diamond  sparks. 
Then  he  beheld  the  figure  of  a  woman,  who  stood 
up  to  her  knees  in  the  water,  with  her  skirts 
pinned  round  her  waist.  It  was  Regina,  doing  her 
washing,  and  wringing  out  the  articles  among  the 
sandbanks  and  osiers. 

His  brows  contracted.  That  he  should  encounter 
her  here  of  all  places!  But  in  common  justice  he 
was  obliged  to  admit  it  was  not  her  fault.  When- 
ever she  could  she  avoided  him,  and  he  had  no 
reason  to  complain  that  he  saw  too  much  of  her. 

He  leant  absently  on  the  railing  and  watched  her. 
She  had  no  idea  that  he  was  anywhere  in  the 
neighbourhood.  She  bent  low  over  the  water,  the 
muscles  in  her  neck  and  arms  strained  by  her 
exertions,  and  shook  the  wet  clothes  with  a  willf 
sending  up  a  spray  of  glistening  drops.  From  time 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      139 

to  time  she  chanted  the  song  on  two  notes,  that  he 
had  heard  her  hum  while  digging  the  grave,  break- 
ing off  abruptly  when  the  water  spurted  into  her 
nose  and  mouth. 

What  a  hard  worker  she  was !  He  had  imagined 
her  long  ago  gone  to  bed,  and  here  she  was  instead, 
at  this  time  of  night,  washing  as  if  her  life  depended 
on  it! 

She  started  in  alarm.  His  foot  had  disturbed 
some  small  pebbles,  which  fell  splashing  into  the 
water  close  to  where  she  stood.  Her  first  thought 
was  that  some  one  was  lying  in  wait  for  her  among 
the  shrubs,  and  she  moved  suspiciously  nearer  the 
opposite  bank.  When  at  last  it  occurred  to  her  to 
look  up  at  the  Cats'  Bridge,  she  gave  a  startled  cry. 

"Don't  be  frightened,  Regina,"  he  called  down 
to  her.  "  I  am  not  going  to  hurt  you." 

Whereupon  she  returned  calmly  to  her  washing. 

"  How  do  you  get  down  there  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  wiped  her  face  with  her  naked  arm.  "  I'm 
a  good  climber,"  she  said,  looking  up  at  him  for  a 
moment  with  blinking  eyes. 

"  Doesn't  the  water  freeze  you  ?  So  late  in  the 
year,  too ! " 

She  made  some  response  that  he  did  not  under- 
stand. He  was  curious  to  see  how  she  would 
clamber  up  the  steep  declivity  with  her  burden, 
so  remained  where  he  was  and  continued  to  watch 
her. 

In  a  few  minutes  she  packed  up  her  washing  and 
climbed  on  the  bank.  The  moonlight  cast  a  flashing 


140 

halo  round  the  masses  of  her  hair,  which  to-day 
had  been  combed  till  it  was  almost  smooth.  She 
looked  as  if  she  wore  a  coronet.  With  one  shy 
glance  to  ascertain  that  he  was  still  standing  there, 
she  dived  into  the  shrubs,  and  he  saw  her  dart 
rapidly  from  branch  to  branch  with  the  agility  of  a 
wild-cat.  At  the  top  she  let  down  her  skirts,  and 
would  have  flown  with  her  basket,  had  he  not  called 
her  back. 

"  Why  do  you  do  your  washing  at  night  ? "  he 
inquired,  making  an  effort  to  look  friendly  disposed 
towards  her. 

"Because  in  the  daytime  they  give  me  no 
peace." 

"  The  villagers  ?  " 

"Yes,  Herr." 

"  What  do  they  do  to  you  ?  M 

"What  they  always  do — throw  things  at  me." 

"  Over  the  river  ?  " 

"Yes,  Herr.n 

"  The  next  time  any  one  assaults  you,  come  and 
fetch  me." 

She  did  not  answer. 

"  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

She  folded  her  hands,  and  looked  at  him  beseech- 
ingly. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Please,  Herr,  don't  shoot  at  them,"  she  stam- 
mered. "They  like  you  to  do  that.  He — the 
gnddiger  Herr,  I  mean — tried  it  once.  Then  they 
began  to  shoot  too,  from  the  other  side,  and  there 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      141 

was  firing  here  and  firing  there ;  the  wonder  was  no 
one  got  shot.  Don't  you  see,  if  they  get  into  the 
habit  of  carrying  guns  about  with  them  always,  they 
are  certain  to  hit  me  one  day,  for  I'm  obliged  to  go 
off  the  island  sometimes  ?  " 

It  was  the  longest  and  most  sensible  speech  he 
had  as  yet  heard  from  her  lips.  He  had  not 
suspected  the  existence  of  so  much  thoughtful 
wisdom  behind  that  low  brow,  in  its  frame  of  wild 
hair. 

"You  are  right,  Regina,"  he  replied.  "For  your 
sake  I  must  forbear  from  provoking  them." 

He  saw  in  the  moonlight  a  dark  flush  suffuse  her 
face. 

"  For  my  sake,  Herr  ?  "  she  said  hesitatingly.  "  I 
don't  quite  understand  what  you  mean,  Herr." 

11  Oh,  well,  never  mind,"  he  answered  evasively. 
"  What  I  wanted  to  ask  you,  Regina,  was — are  you 
satisfied  in  my  service  ?  can  I  do  anything  to  make 
you  more  comfortable  ?  " 

She  stared  at  him  in  dumb  amazement. 

"  You  mustn't  think,  Regina,"  he  went  on,  "  that 
I  am  unfriendly.  My  mind  is  occupied  with  many 
things,  and  I  prefer  to  be  quite  alone  with  my 
troubles.  So  if  I  don't  speak  to  you  often  you  will 
understand  how  it  is." 

Her  eyes  drooped.  Her  hands  fumbled  for  the 
balustrade  as  if  seeking  a  support,  then  the  next 
moment  she  turned,  and  leaving  her  basket  in  the 
lurch,  scampered  off,  as  if  driven  by  furies. 

"  Strange  creature ! "  he  muttered,  as  he  looked 


142      THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

after  her.  "I  must  be  kinder  to  her.  She  de- 
serves it."  Then  he  leant  over  the  balustrade 
again,  and  gazing  into  the  silver  water  fancied 
he  saw  growing  there  a  garden  of  lilies  and  crimson 
roses. 


CHAPTER  IX 

LIEUTENANT  MERCKEL  was  far  from  being  pleased 
at  the  course  events  had  taken  on  the  day  of  the 
funeral.  He  called  the  Schrandeners  poltroons  and 
old  women,  and  declared  they  were  unworthy  ever 
to  have  worn  the  king's  uniform. 

When  some  one  ventured  to  ask  why  he  had  not 
shown  himself  in  it  to  the  procession,  and  had  left 
the  mob  leaderless  at  a  critical  moment,  he  replied 
that  that  was  a  different  matter  altogether:  he  was 
an  officer,  and  as  such  bound  only  to  draw  his  sword 
in  the  service  of  the  king. 

The  Schrandeners,  not  accustomed  to  logical  ar- 
gument, accepted  the  explanation,  and  promised  to 
retrieve  their  reputation  the  next  time  the  oppor- 
tunity offered  itself.  But  this  did  not  satisfy  Felix 
Merckel. 

"Father,"  he  said,  late  one  evening  when  the  old 
landlord  was  counting  the  cash  taken  during  the 
day,  "I  can't  bear  to  think  that  scoundrelly  cur 
holds  the  rank  of  Royal  Prussian  officer  as  I  do.  I 
am  ashamed  to  have  served  with  him.  Our  army 
doesn't  want  to  be  associated  with  people  like  him. 
It  drags  the  cockade  through  the  gutter,  not  to 

M3 


144      THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

speak  of  the  sword-knot.    I  know  what  I'll  do;  I'll 
call  him  out  and  shoot  him." 

He  stretched  his  legs  on  the  settle,  twisting  his 
cavalry  moustache  with  a  bland  smile.  The  old  man 
let  fall,  in  horrified  dismay,  a  handful  of  silver  that 
he  was  counting,  and  the  coins  rolled  away  into  the 
cracks  of  the  floor. 

"Felixchen,"  he  said,  "you  really  mustn't  drink 
so  much  of  that  Wacholder  brandy.  It's  good  enough 
for  customers,  but  you,  Felixchen,  shall  have  a 
bottle  of  light  wine  to-morrow,  and  perhaps  some  of 
them  will  follow  your  example,  and  so  it  won't  cost 
me  anything." 

"Father,  you  are  mistaken,"  Felix  answered. 
"It's  my  outraged  sense  of  honour  that  gives  me  no 
peace.  I  am  a  German  lad,  father,  and  a  brave 
officer.  I  can't  stand  the  stain  on  my  calling  any 
longer." 

"Felixchen,"  said  the  old  man,  "go  to  bed,  my  son, 
ond  you'll  get  over  it." 

"Father,"  replied  his  son,  "I  am  sorry  to  have  to  say 
it,  but  you  have  no  conception  of  what  honour  is." 

"Felixchen,"  went  on  the  old  man,  ignoring  the 
taunt,  "you  haven't  enough  occupation.  If  you 
would  only  look  after  the  bottles — of  course  the 
barmaid  is  there  for  the  purpose — but  it  would  do 
you  good.  It  would  distract  your  thoughts.  Or 
you  might  go  out  shooting  sometimes." 

"Where?" 

"Lord  bless  my  soul!  there  are  the  woods  and 
forest  of  Schranden.  Whether  the  hares  devour 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      145 

each  other,  or  you  annex  your  share  of  them,  is  all 
the  same." 

"That  won't  do  for  me,  father.  I  am  an  officer, 
and  don't  wish  to  be  caught  poaching." 

"Good  gracious,  Felixchen,  how  you  talk!  Do  you 
forget  that  I  am  magistrate  here.  I  am  not  likely  to 
sentence  you  to  the  gallows.  But  do  as  you  like, 
my  boy.  Of  course  you  might  go  oftener  to  the 
parsonage.  The  old  pastor  enjoys  a  game  of  chess ; 
there's  nothing  to  be  gained  by  chess,  I  know,  but 
some  people  seem  to  like  it,  and  then  there's — 
Helene." 

"  Ah,  Helene !  said  Felix,  stroking  his  chin  and 
looking  flattered. 

The  old  man  examined  the  artificial  fly  in  the 
centre  of  his  amber  heart. 

"  I  have  a  strong  notion  that  she  would  be  a  good 
match  if  the  pastor  consented,  and  she  liked  you." 

"  Why  shouldn't  she  like  me  ?  "  asked  Felix. 
'  Well,  there  might  be  some  one  else  who         n 

Felix  smiled  sceptically. 

"Or  do  you  mean  that  she  has  already  set  her 
heart  on  you  ?  " 

Felix  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  You  see,  Felixchen,  that  would  be  a  great  piece 
of  good  fortune  for  us.  People  are  constantly  carping 
at  the  way  in  which  they  think  I  acquired  my  bit 
of  money — without  the  smallest  ground  of  course. 
If  only  the  pastor  gave  you  his  daughter  as  wife,  it 
would  stop  their  mouths  once  for  all.  A  man  like 
Pastor  Gotz  has  great  weight  and  influence.  Well 

K 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

then,  as  I  said,  it's  worth  while  your  hanging  about 
there  a  little.  Court  her,  and  a  fellow  like  you  is 
sure " 

"  Dear  father,  spare  me  your  advice,  if  you  please," 
interrupted  his  son.  "Whether  Helene  becomes 
my  wife  or  not,  is  my  own  affair.  I  have  not  yet 
made  up  my  mind.  She  has  a  pretty  enough  little 
phiz,  but  she  is  too  thin.  She  might  be  fattened 
up  with  advantage.  Then  there's  something  old- 
maidish  about  her,  something  sharp  and  prudish 
that  I  don't  quite  fancy.  For  instance,  if  you  put 
your  arm  round  her  waist  she  says,  'Ah,  dear  Herr 
Lieutenant,  how  you  frightened  me ! '  and  wriggles 
away.  And  if  you  squeeze  her  arm,  by  Jokus,  she 
screams  out  directly,  'Oh,  dear  Herr  Lieutenant, 
don't  do  that,  I've  got  such  a  delicate  skin.'  Of  course 
that's  all  airs  and  affectation,  and  perhaps  if  a  man 
caught  hold  of  her  firmly  and  didn't  give  in,  she'd 
allow  herself  to  be  kissed  at  last;  but  as  I  say,  I 
have  not  made  up  my  mind,  so  don't  build  too  much 
on  it." 

The  old  landlord,  who  with  deft  hand  was  rolling 
up  his  sovereigns  in  paper,  looked  proudly  across 
at  this  magnificent  son  of  his.  Then  he  became 
anxious  again. 

"  And  you  won't  think  any  more  about  the  duel, 
eh,  Felixchen  ?  That's  all  nonsense.  .  .  .  You 
wouldn't  go  and  risk  your  life  so  recklessly  as 
that." 

Felix  threw  back  his  chest.  "In  affairs  of 
honour,  father,  please  don't  interfere,  for  you  know 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS      147 

nothing  about  them.  Directly  I  can  find  a  respectable 
second " 

"  What  is  that,  Felixchen  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  man  who'll  take  the  challenge." 

"  Where— to  Boleslav  ?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  To  the  island  ?  " 

"  To  the  island." 

"  But,  Felixchen,  what  are  you  thinking  about  ? 
No  Christian  dare  set  foot  on  the  island.  It  swarms 
with  wolf-traps,  bombs,  and  other  deadly  instru- 
ments. Look  at  Hackelberg;  he  was  caught  in  one, 
and  limps  to  this  day — but  never  mention  it.  It 
mustn't  come  out  that  Hackelberg  was  ever  on  the 
island.  Do  you  see  ?  ...  As  I  was  saying,  you 
wouldn't  get  any  one  to  go  on  such  a  dangerous 
errand — or  to  come  in  contact  with  such  a  man  as 
that.  No,  my  boy,  think  no  more  about  it  There's 
nothing  to  be  gained  by  it." 

"  But  I  will  challenge  him  all  the  same  to  meet 
me  here,"  growled  Felix. 

The  old  man  contemplated  him  with  the  greatest 
:oncern  for  a  few  moments,  then  rose,  filled  a  liqueur- 
glass  with  peppermint-schnaps,  and  brought  it  over 
to  him. 

"Drink  it  up,  Felixchen,"  he  said,  "it'll  soothe 
you."  Felix  obeyed. 

"  Leave  the  matter  in  the  hands  of  your  good, 
honest  old  father.  Trust  him  to  find  in  the  night 
some  other  means  of  satisfying  your  so-called  sense 
of  honour.  Good-night,  Felixchen." 


148      THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"  The  good,  honest  old  father  "  had  not  promised 
more  than  he  was  able  to  perform. 

The  next  morning,  when  he  met  his  son  at  the 
breakfast  table,  he  asked  in  an  accent  of  benevolent 
sympathy — 

"Well,  Felixchen,  have  you  slept  off  all  those 
silly  notions  ?  " 

Felix  grew  angry.  "  I  told  you,  father,  that  on 
that  subject  you  were " 

"  Totally  ignorant !  Very  good,  my  boy.  But  I 
want  to  be  clear  on  one  point.  Is  it  with  the  Baron 
von  Schranden  that  you  propose  to  fight  a  duel,  or 
with  Lieutenant  Baumgart  ?  " 

Felix  did  not  answer  at  once.  A  suspicion  of  what 
his  father  was  darkly  hinting,  dawned  on  him. 

"  Don't  deal  in  subterfuges,  father,"  he  said.  "  I 
am  an  upright,  simple  soldier,  and  don't  understand 
them." 

"But,  Felix,  you  needn't  be  so  headstrong.  I 
mean  well.  As  the  Baron  von  Schranden  never 
was  an  officer,  there  is  no  reason  why  you  should 
concern  yourself  about  him ;  and  as  Lieutenant 
Baumgart  has  proved  a  swindler,  and  assumed  a 
false  name,  he  is  equally  beneath  your  notice." 

"That  is  true,"  said  Felix,  spreading  honey  on 
his  bread  and  butter.  "As  a  matter  of  fact,  I 
oughtn't  to  do  him  the  honour  of  challenging  him." 

Then  a  new  idea  seemed  to  occur  to  Felix.  "  If 
only,"  he  added  fiercely,  "  he  could  be  stopped  from 
entitling  himself  lieutenant.  That's  what  offends 
my  sense  of  honour  more  than  anything." 


THE   SINS    OF  THE    FATHERS      149 

His  old  father  seemed  prepared  with  an  answer 
to  this  remark. 

"Why  should  he  go  on  calling  himself  lieutenant?" 
he  asked,  grinning  and  whistling  under  his  breath. 
"  Only  because  his  Superior  officers  are  kept  in 
ignorance  of  the  deception  he  has  practised.  If 
they  had  an  inkling  of  it,  they'd  be  down  on  him 
fast  enough." 

I 

Felix  understood.  "You  mean  we  ought  " 
he  began. 

"  Of  course  we  ought." 

But  Felix's  hypersensitive  sense  of  honour  again 
felt  itself  outraged.  "  Remember  that  I  am  an 
officer,  father,"  he  exclaimed  indignantly.  "Your 
proposal  is  in  the  highest  degree  insulting." 

The  host  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Very  well ; 
if  you  don't  wish  it,  leave  it  alone,"  he  said. 

Then  the  honourable  young  man  saw  a  way  of 
escape. 

"  If  only  it  could  be  done  without  a  signature," 
he  meditated  aloud. 

"That  difficulty  is  easily  overcome,"  responded 
the  old  man.  "  I  have  a  scheme  in  my  head.  Let 
me  draw  it  up.  All  you've  got  to  do  will  be  to  sign 
your  name  with  the  others  at  the  foot.  Then  it  will 
be  only  one  of  many." 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  the  parish 
crier,  Hoffmann,  invited  all  the  country's  defenders 
in  the  village  to  assemble  at  the  Black  Eagle.  It 
was  the  merest  matter  of  form,  a  tribute  to  the  im- 
portance of  the  business  to  be  discussed,  for  they 


ISO      THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

were  certain  to  have  turned  up  there  of  their  own 
accord  sooner  or  later  without  an  invitation.  The 
tables  were  soon  full  (Schranden  had  sent  a  contin- 
gent of  thirty  warriors  to  the  War  of  Liberty) ;  and 
when  Herr  Merckel  saw  glasses  emptying  to  right 
and  left  of  him,  he  stepped  behind  the  bar,  and  ex- 
changing glances  with  his  son,  rubbed  his  hands  with 
satisfaction,  and  began  the  following  harangue : — 

"Dear  fellow-burghers,  I  desire  to  speak  a  few 
words  to  you.  You  are  all  brave  soldiers,  and  have 
fought  in  many  a  bloody  battle  for  your  Fatherland 
in  its  dire  extremity.  You  must  have  often  been 
thirsty  in  those  days,  and  have  longed  for  even  a 
few  drops  of  dirty  ditch-water.  It's  only  to  your 
credit,  then,  that  after  the  heat  and  burden  of  the 
war,  you  turn  into  the  Black  Eagle  occasionally,  for 
a  good  draught  of  pale  ale.  You  have  earned  it 
honestly  with  the  sweat  of  your  brow.  Your  health, 
soldiers  ! " 

He  flourished  the  mug  that  he  kept  specially  for 
occasions  like  the  present,  and  then  raised  it  to  his 
mouth,  holding  it  there  till  he  had  assured  himself 
that  no  glass  had  been  put  down  unemptied.  Then 
making  a  sign  to  the  barmaid,  he  wiped  his  lips 
energetically,  and  continued — 

"  I,  as  your  Mayor  and  magistrate,  could  not 
accompany  you  to  the  seat  of  war,  being  obliged 
to  remain  and  look  after  the  wants  of  those  who 
stayed  at  home."  A  murmur  of  approval  came 
from  the  audience.  "  But  I  am  a  patriot  like  you  ; 
my  warm  heart  beats  true  for  the  honour  of  the 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      151 

Fatherland,  just  as  your  hearts  do,  brave  soldiers ! 
Fill  up,  Amalie,  you  slow-coach !  Herr  Weichert  is 
nearly  expiring  for  thirst."  Herr  Weichert  pro- 
tested, but  in  vain;  his  glass  was  snatched  out  of 
his  hand.  "And  my  bosom  swells  with  pride 
when  I  look  at  my  son,  a  gallant,  upright  soldier, 
whom  the  confidence  of  his  comrades  and  the 
favour  of  his  king  promoted  to  the  rank  of  officer. 
I  speak  for  you  all,  I  know,  when  I  call  three 
cheers  for  the  joy  of  the  village,  the  dutiful  son, 
the  good  comrade,  the  brave  soldier,  and  honourable 
officer,  Lieutenant  Merckel — Hip,  hip,  hurrah  ! " 

The  Schrandeners  joined  enthusiastically  in  the 
cheering,  and  Herr  Merckel  observed  with  satis- 
faction that  several  glasses  had  again  become  empty. 
To  give  Amalie  time  to  fill  up,  he  made  an  effective 
little  pause,  in  which,  in  speechless  emotion,  he  fell 
on  his  son's  breast :  then  he  resumed  the  thread  of 
his  discourse. 

"All  the  more  painful  is  it,  therefore,  to  see 
that  the  disgrace  you,  by  your  glorious  deeds  of 
arms,  did  your  best  to  remove  from  our  beloved 
and  highly  favoured  village,  now  rests  on  it  again, 
through  the  presence  here  of  the  son  of  the  man 
who  wrought  it  such  dire  mischief.  On  the  site  of 
the  fire  he  is  now  living  with  his  father's  mistress. 
I'll  not  enter  into  details,  but  you  know,  my  children, 
what  that  implies." 

There  was  a  significant  laugh,  which  changed 
gradually  into  a  sullen  muttering. 

"Yes,   and   what's   more,   this    immoral    outlaw 


152      THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

belongs  to  our  glorious  army.  Under  a  false  name 
he  enlisted  in  its  ranks,  and  raised  himself  to  the 
position  of  officer.  By  lying,  and  cheating,  and 
devilish  craft,  he  succeeded  in  obtaining  what  you 
brave,  honest  fellows  (with  the  exception  of  my 
son,  of  course)  could  not  attain  to.  Will  you 
tolerate  this,  you  noble  Schrandeners  ?  Will  you, 
I  say,  let  a  rascally  cheat,  the  son  of  a  traitor, 
continue  to  look  down  on  you  as  his  inferiors  ? 
Was  it  for  this  that  his  gracious  Majesty  made  you 
free  men  ?  " 

The  moment  was  a  favourable  one  for  drink- 
ing his  gracious  Majesty's  health,  and  Amalie,  in 
obedience  to  a  signal,  began  the  filling-up  process 
anew.  Herr  Merckel  already  felt  he  had  cause  to 
congratulate  himself  on  the  result  of  his  stirring 
oration. 

"No,  brave  Schrandeners,"  he  went  on,  "such 
a  scandal  must  not  be  tolerated !  The  army  must 
be  purged  of  this  black  spot;  otherwise  you  will 
be  ashamed,  instead  of  proud,  of  calling  yourselves 
Prussian  soldiers." 

"  Kill  him !  kill  him ! "  cried  several  voices  at 
once. 

"  No,  dear  friends,"  he  replied,  with  his  unctuous 
smirk.  "  You  mustn't  always  be  talking  of  killing. 
I,  as  your  Mayor,  cannot  countenance  that,"  shaking 
a  warning  fat  forefinger  at  them ;  "  but  I  can  give 
you  wiser  counsel.  The  authorities,  naturally,  have 
no  suspicion  of  who  it  is  has  been  masquerading  as 
Lieutenant  Baumgart;  last  spring  no  one  had  time 


THE   SINS    OF  THE    FATHERS      153 

to  inquire  into  birth  certificates  and  such-like  details. 
But  now  there  will  be  leisure  to  investigate  the 
case  of  a  Prussian  officer  passing  under  an  assumed 
name.  And  the  case  presses  for  attention.  Do 
you  remember  the  story  Johann  Radtke  related  in 
this  very  room,  the  day  he  came  over  from  Heide, 
when  none  of  us  had  the  slightest  idea  of  what  a 
savage  Jdnd  of  animal  his  celebrated  hero,  Lieu- 
tenant Baumgart,  really  was  ?  " 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  laugh  of  pent-up  hate 
and  fury.  It  proceeded  from  his  son  Felix. 

"  He  is  said  to  have  tramped  home  from  France 
entirely  alone,  like  a  wandering  journeyman.  He 
had  been  wounded  and  taken  prisoner,  and  all  the 
rest  of  it.  But  mark  my  words,  that  signifies  more 
than  you  think.  It  means  that  he  didn't  get  his 
discharge — that  he  sneaked  out  of  the  service  like 
a  thief  in  the  night,  in  the  same  straightforward 
manner  as  he  entered  it.  And  do  you  know  what 
that  is  in  good  plain  Prussian?  Deserting!  It 
means  he  is  a  deserter." 

A  cry  of  jubilation  arose,  which  Herr  Merckel 
greeted  with  profound  approval,  for,  according  to  his 
ripe  experience,  shouting  rendered  the  throat  dry. 
He  let  the  applause  therefore  exhaust  itself,  and 
then  went  on. 

"It  is  our  sacred  duty,  as  genuine  patriots  and 
intrepid  soldiers,  to  open  the  eyes  of  his  Highness 
the  Commander-General  to  this  young  man's  true 
character.  We  owe  it  to  our  King,  our  Fatherland, 
above  all,  to  ourselves.  We'll  get  him  cashiered  out 


154      THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

of  our  brave  army,  degraded  and  ruined.  What  is 
done  to  him  afterwards,  whether  he  is  shot  or  cast 
into  prison,  is  a  matter  of  indifference  to  us.  We 
are  not  responsible  for  him." 

At  the  mere  suggestion  of  such  a  vengeance  the 
Schrandeners  were  beside  themselves,  and  almost 
howled  with  rage. 

Herr  Merckel  drew  a  sheet  of  paper  from  his 
breast-pocket. 

"  I  have  drawn  up  a  little  statement,  in  which  I 
have  respectfully  lodged  a  complaint  to  a  Deputy- 
General  of  high  standing  and  noble  birth.  If  you'll 
allow  me,  dear  friends " 

He  was  in  the  act  of  unfolding  the  sheet  when  a 
still  happier  thought  occurred  to  him. 

"  I  could  lay  the  document  before  you  at  once  and 
ask  you  to  sign  it,  but  then  it  would  be  my  compo- 
sition, and  not  yours,"  he  went  on,  beaming ;  "  and 
I  want  every  word  well  weighed  and  considered,  and 
altered  if  needful.  I  therefore  propose  that  a  com- 
mittee of  five  comrades  be  elected  from  amongst  you, 
who  shall  withdraw  with  me  and  my  son  into  the 
best  parlour,  where  we  can  hold  a  quiet  consultation 
over  the  wording  of  the  address,  while  the  rest  of 
you  remain  here." 

Then  he  gave  the  names  of  those  he  considered 
worthiest  of  filling  this  delicate  office.  They  were 
five  young  men  whom  he  knew  to  be  lavish  spend- 
thrifts, and  whom  he  expected  to  acquit  themselves 
honourably  in  more  senses  than  one.  Half  in  envy, 
half  in  malice,  his  choice  was  agreed  to. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS     155 

The  elected  looked  rather  glum ;  then  they  knew 
what  they  had  been  let  in  for,  but  at  the  same  time 
they  were  too  flattered  by  the  invitation  to  decline  it. 

Heir  Merckel,  with  the  air  of  solemnity  he  always 
considered  due  to  any  occasion  on  which  the  best 
parlour  was  brought  into  requisition,  flung  open  the 
door,  over  which  was  inscribed  the  alluring  caution, 
fraught  with  so  much  significance — "  Only  Wine 
drunk  here" 

With  a  somewhat  nervous  air  the  chosen  com- 
mittee entered  the  sanctum  of  gentility,  awkwardly 
twirling  their  caps  in  their  hands.  The  last  to  go 
in  was  the  son  of  the  house.  At  the  door,  Herr 
Merckel  turned  and  called  out  in  a  loud  impressive 
voice — 

"  Amalie,  bring  two  bottles  of  Muscat  for  me  and 
the  Herr  Lieutenant ! " 

Muscat  was  a  wine  made  at  home,  from  rum, 
sugar,  cinnamon,  currant  juice,  and  a  judicious 
quantity  of  water,  and  was  sold  to  the  Schrandeners 
for  a  thaler  the  bottle.  Herr  Merckel  ordered  two 
bottles,  to  demonstrate  to  his  customers  that  he  did 
not  expect  any  of  them  to  go  shares  in  a  bottle. 

There  was  now  a  profound  silence  in  the  tap- 
room. Its  occupants  gazed  with  serious  excited 
faces  at  the  closed  door  and  then  at  each  other. 

Neither  did  any  sound  proceed  from  the  reception 
room,  where  a  dumb  pitched  battle  was  going  on 
between  the  host  and  his  guests.  It  was  doubtful 
at  one  time  who  would  come  off  victor.  But  a  few 
minutes  after  the  barmaid  had  hurried  up  from  the 


156      THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

cellar  with  the  two  freshly  filled  bottles,  Herr 
Merckel  tore  open  the  door  again,  and  shouted 
triumphantly — 

"Amalie,  five  bottles  more  of  Muscat!" 
Tongues  were  loosened.  The  tension  was  over. 
As  was  generally  the  case,  the  customers  had  been 
mastered  by  the  landlord.  And  soon  the  dull 
monotonous  sound  of  reading  aloud  reached  the 
ears  of  the  listeners  in  the  tap-room. 

Herr  Merckel,  senior,  when  he  retired  to  rest, 
felt  that  his  day  had  not  been  wasted. 

His  son  had  abandoned  his  dangerous  project ; 
the  fate  of  the  last  of  the  Schrandens  had  been 
sealed;  and  in  the  cash-box,  beyond  the  usual 
takings,  was  a  surplus  of  eight  thalers  and  twenty- 
five  silver  groschens. 

"  Thus  I  have  killed  three  birds  with  one  stone ! " 
he  mused,  with  a  self-satisfied  grin,  and,  folding 
his  hands,  fell  into  a  gentle  slumber. 


CHAPTER  X 

WINTER  had  come.     It  had  been  preceded  by  a 

season  of  decay,  inexpressibly  cheerless  and  trying 
to  the  spirits.  Boleslav,  who  had  grown  up  in 
closest  communion  with  Nature  and  her  moods, 
could  never  have  believed  it  possible  that  autumn's 
symbolic  melancholy  would  affect  him  so  profoundly 
and  send  such  deathlike  shivers  through  his  limbs. 
The  mere  calculation  of  time  dismayed  and  oppressed 
him. 

His  evenings  began  to  be  dismally  long.  Solitude 
swooped  over  his  head  like  a  vulture  in  ever-narrow- 
ing circles,  till  he  began  to  fancy  he  felt  the  chill  flap 
of  its  wings  across  his  face. 

It  was  strange  that  he  who  all  his  life  had  been 
much  alone  from  choice,  should  now,  when  almost 
every  human  being  was  his  deadly  foe,  crave  for  the 
society  of  his  fellow-creatures. 

He  buried  himself  deeper  and  deeper  in  the  mass 
of  papers  and  manuscripts,  a  dreary  enough  occu- 
pation, without  much  object  unless  it  were  to  help 
the  hours  to  drag  a  little  less  slowly.  He  tried 
to  convince  himself  that  the  portion  of  the  past  he 
unearthed  from  these  dust-heaps  might  be  of  service 

to  him  in  the  future.     But  in  reality  he  had  found 
157 


158      THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

what  was  absolutely  necessary  to  his  purpose  without 
much  trouble,  and  the  rest  might  as  well  have 
perished  in  the  flames. 

Regina  remained  tongue-tied,  and  performed  her 
household  duties  swiftly  and  noiselessly.  She  moved 
about  his  room  without  lifting  her  eyes  to  his  face, 
and  if  he  addressed  a  word  to  her,  shrank  away 
with  a  startled  look.  But  her  answers  to  his 
questions,  though  given  in  a  hesitating  and  em- 
barrassed manner,  were  always  clear,  comprehensive, 
and  to  the  point.  Sometimes  days  together  went 
by  without  their  exchanging  a  syllable.  Yet  it  was 
on  these  days  he  observed  her  in  secret  all  the  more 
closely,  watching  her  as  she  laid  the  table,  following 
her  with  his  eyes  as  she  crossed  the  little  plot  of 
garden  and  disappeared  into  the  bushes.  He  caught 
himself  constantly  wondering  what  was  passing  in 
her  mind.  What  did  she  think  about  all  day  long  ? 
Was  it  possible  that  her  whole  existence  revolved 
round  him  and  his  personal  comforts,  a  man  who 
was  nothing  to  her,  who  had  not  even  rewarded  her 
labours  so  far,  with  a  brass  farthing  ? 

He  felt  ashamed  when  he  thought  of  the  innumer- 
able self-sacrifices  he  accepted  from  her  with  such 
haughty  indifference,  and  determined  to  be  more 
friendly  and  conversational  towards  her  in  the 
future,  so  that  she  might  feel  the  unpleasantness  of 
her  position  less  acutely.  But  a  certain  unaccount- 
able shyness  on  his  side  seemed  to  hinder  his 
putting  these  good  intentions  into  practice.  He  no 
longer  hated  her.  His  aversion  had  yielded  to 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS      159 

something  like  regard  at  sight  of  so  much  unselfish 
loyalty  and  untiring  industry;  and  the  result  was 
that  he  felt  more  than  ever  a  constraint  in  con- 
versing with  her.  Something  came  between  them, 
a  kind  of  mysterious  veil  that  enveloped  her  and 
rendered  her  unapproachable  as  a  stranger.  It 
seemed  almost  as  if  the  spirit  of  his  father  hovered 
about  her,  preventing  by  its  ghostly  presence  any 
intercourse  between  them.  Sometimes  he  wondered 
if  it  were  her  shame  that  invested  her  with  that 
strange  fascination  that  vice  is  said  to  exercise  on 
inexperienced  youth.  Or  was  it  the  magnitude  of 
her  misfortunes  that  gave  her  an  unconscious  power 
and  charm  ? 

Often  when  she  brought  in  his  supper,  or  turned 
back  the  counterpane  from  his  bed,  he  would  look 
up  from  his  work  and  endeavour  to  open  a  con- 
versation. But  his  tongue  would  cleave  to  the  roof 
of  his  mouth,  he  could  never  think  of  anything  to 
talk  to  her  about  that  was  not  beneath  his  dignity. 
So,  after  all,  only  curt  and  harsh  commands  crossed 
his  lips. 

He  had  remarked  for  a  long  time  how  much  more 
careful  she  had  become  about  her  personal  appear- 
ance, which  had  wonderfully  improved.  She  no 
longer  went  about  ragged,  unkempt,  and  d&olletie, 
but  wore  her  jacket  buttoned  up  modestly  to  her 
throat,  with  the  ends  neatly  tucked  under  her  waist- 
band. A  woollen  scarf  was  knotted  round  her  neck 
by  way  of  giving  a  finish  to  her  costume,  and  her 
skirt  carefully  brushed  and  mended.  Her  hah  did 


160         THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

not  hang  about  her  as  formerly,  in  untidy  plaits  and 
a  hundred  rough,  loose  curls,  but  was  combed 
and  neatly  dressed.  Of  a  morning  the  top  of  her 
head  sometimes  presented  a  smooth,  polished  sur- 
face, the  effects  of  the  shower-bath,  by  means  of 
which  she  brought  her  unruly  mane  into  sub- 
jection. 

The  weather  grew  bitterly  cold,  but  she  still  shiv- 
ered in  her  cotton  gown,  only  throwing  on  the  red 
cross-over  when  she  went  into  the  open  air. 

One  evening  as  she  was  preparing  for  her  regular 
weekly  expedition  for  the  purchase  of  provisions, 
and  had  come  to  him  for  orders,  he  said — 

"Why  have  you  brought  no  winter  clothes  back 
with  you  yet,  Regina?" 

She  looked  on  the  ground  and  replied — 

"I  should  like  to— only " 

"Only?" 

"I  wasn't  sure  whether  I  might." 

"Of  course  you  may.    You  mustn't  freeze." 

"There's  a "  she  began  eagerly,  then  stopped 

and  blushed. 

"Well?" 

"There's  a  jacket  at  the  shop — a  blue  cloth 
one  trimmed  with  beautiful  fur.  The  shopman 
says " 

He  smiled.  "Thank  God,"  he  thought  "she  is 
beginning  to  be  human  at  last.  A  love  of  finery  has 
awakened  in  her." 

"What  does  the  shopman  say  ?"  he  asked. 

"That   it   would   fit   me   exactly.    And   I   need 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS      161 

something  warm  and  comfortable  for  the  long  walks. 
But  it's  a  real  lady's  jacket,  and " 

"  All  the  more  reason  why  you  should  have 
it,"  he  interrupted,  laughing.  "Don't  come  back 
without  the  jacket,  now  mind.  Good-night,  and  a 
pleasant  journey." 

With  a  joyous  exclamation  she  stooped  to  kiss 
his  hand,  but  he  evaded  the  caress. 

When  her  footsteps  had  died  away  in  the  dark- 
ness, he  took  the  lamp  and  went  into  the  green- 
house, which  was  her  private  apartment. 

The  fire  still  smouldered  on  the  hearth,  but  the 
room  was  icily  cold  and  comfortless.  A  stray  flake 
or  two  whirled  through  the  holes  in  the  roof,  for  out- 
side a  gentle  dusting  of  snow  had  begun  to  fall. 

"  Why  doesn't  she  doctor  the  laths  ?  "  he  thought, 
and  resolved  that  the  next  morning  he  would  come 
and  lay  boards  over  the  weak  places.  He  climbed 
on  one  of  the  boxes  and  tested  with  a  tap  the  glass 
roofing.  Then  he  understood  why  Regina  pre- 
ferred to  sleep  half  in  the  open  air.  The  leaden 
framework  of  the  panes  had  become  rotten  and 
brittle.  At  his  mere  touch  the  whole  decrepit  roof 
rattled  and  trembled  in  all  its  joints.  Any  attempt 
to  mend  it  would  bring  it  down  altogether. 

"  It's  a  positive  sin  to  allow  her  to  be  housed  like 
this,"  he  said  to  himself. 

He  went  back  to  his  room  and  drew  from  under 
his  sheets  as  many  of  his  feather  mattresses  as  he 
could  do  without,  and  carried  them,  with  one  of  his 
pillows,  to  her  wretched  resting-place.  He  carefully 

L 


1 62     THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

made  up  a  bed,  and  then  threw  her  horse-cloth  over 
it,  so  that  not  a  scrap  of  the  bedding  was  visible. 

"  That  will  make  her  open  her  eyes,"  he  thought, 
"  when,  worn  out,  she  comes  to  throw  herself  on  her 
pallet."  And  well  satisfied  with  his  evening's  work, 
he  returned  to  his  papers. 

The  next  morning,  when  he  awoke,  his  walls 
shone  with  the  dazzling  reflection  of  the  snow.  In 
the  night  the  world  had  arrayed  itself  in  the  garb 
of  winter. 

He  dressed,  and  called  Regina.  There  was  no 
answer.  She  had  not  come  back. 

He  waited  two  hours,  and  then  went  to  prepare 
his  own  breakfast.  Three  snow-heaps  had  collected 
underneath  the  holes  in  the  glass  roof,  and  a  fourth 
was  accumulating  on  the  hearth.  A  greenish  twilight 
filled  the  room.  He  took  the  shovel  and  broom,  and 
half  mechanically  swept  the  white  mounds  out  at  the 
door;  then  he  fetched  a  sheet  of  strong  cardboard 
that  had  served  as  a  cover  to  the  stacks  of  docu- 
ments, cut  it  into  strips,  which  he  cautiously  pushed 
through  the  holes  so  that  they  roofed  in  the  bad 
places  from  the  snow. 

"That's  the  best  I  can  do,"  he  said,  as  he 
shivered  about  the  room,  which  he  had  now  made 
nearly  as  dark  as  night.  Then,  sighing  heavily,  he 
went  to  the  hearth,  and  lit  the  fire. 

The  day  crept  on,  and  still  Regina  did  not  return. 
In  all  probability  the  snowstorm  would  detain  her 
at  Bockeldorf  till  the  next  morning.  He  felt  moped 
to  distraction  as  he  sat  over  his  work.  Now  and 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS      163 

then,  to  vary  the  dull  monotony,  he  took  a  walk  to 
the  Cats'  Bridge,  over  which  she  was  bound  to  come. 
After  he  had  bolted  his  cold  dinner  he  did  nothing 
but  watch  the  clock,  whose  hands  seemed  hardly  to 
move. 

He  missed  Regina  at  every  turn ;  for  though  she 
kept  out  of  his  way  when  at  home,  he  knew  he 
had  only  to  whistle  to  bring  her  instantly  to  his 
elbow. 

He  put  his  papers  aside,  and  to  change  the  current 
of  his  thoughts  began  to  draw.  On  the  back  of  a 
coachbuilder's  bill  of  fifty  years  ago  he  painted  a 
long  garden  border  of  stiff  rows  of  stately  lilies  and 
red  roses.  First  he  made  a  line  of  lilies,  then  one 
of  roses,  then  lilies  again,  and  so  on  until  the  whole 
resembled  some  gorgeous  carpet.  Then  he  threw 
himself  on  the  creaking  sofa,  and  dreamed  of  the 
Madonna  who  presided  over  that  wall  of  flowers, 
and  shed  the  blessed  light  of  her  countenance  on  all 
who  had  the  courage  to  penetrate  it. 

Already  it  was  dusk.  There  was  a  sound  of 
footsteps  on  the  cobble-stones  before  the  door.  He 
sprang  to  his  feet  and  hurried  out. 

Regina  came  timidly  over  the  threshold.  She  was 
laden  with  bundles  and  parcels,  and  covered  from 
head  to  foot  with  snow ;  even  the  little  curls  on  her 
forehead  were  powdered  white.  Her  face  glowed, 
but  there  was  an  expression  of  fear  in  her  brilliant 
eyes  as  she  lifted  them  to  his. 

"I  ran,  Herr,  as  fast  as  I  could,"  she  panted, 
laying  her  right  hand  on  her  heart.  "  The  shopman 


1 64     THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

wouldn't  let  me  start  till  daylight,  because  he  thought 
— the  jacket  might " 

She  broke  off,  looking  guilty. 

He  smiled  kindly.  He  was  much  too  glad  to 
know  that  she  was  back  again  to  scold  her. 

"Go  and  cook  me  something  hot  as  quickly  as 
you  can,"  he  said.  "  You'll  be  glad  of  your  supper 
too." 

She  gazed  at  him  in  mute  amazement 

"  Why  don't  you  go?  " 

"  I  will — but,  oh ! "  And  then  as  if  ashamed  of 
what  she  was  on  the  point  of  saying,  she  rushed 
past  him  into  the  kitchen. 

"  She  almost  claimed  her  flogging,"  he  murmured, 
laughing,  as  he  looked  after  her. 

He  was  sitting  at  his  desk  where  he  generally 
worked,  when  she  brought  in  the  evening  meal. 
The  lamp  with  its  green  shade  cast  a  subdued 
uncertain  light  over  the  apartment.  He  liked  to 
watch  her  as  she  moved  swiftly  to  and  fro,  in  and 
out  of  the  shadows.  To-day  her  appearance  almost 
frightened  him.  She  looked  resplendently,  proudly 
beautiful.  Not  a  trace  of  her  former  degradation 
was  apparent.  The  once  forlorn  and  half-tamed 
girl  might  have  been  taken  for  a  duchess,  so  grace- 
ful and  distinguished  were  all  her  movements;  so 
pure  and  full  of  charm  the  contour  of  her  young 
erect  figure.  Was  it  the  neat  woollen  dress,  or 
the  new  jacket  with  its  silver-grey  far—kaeabeika, 
as  they  called  it  in  Poland — that  was  responsible 
for  the  transformation?  As  she  laid  the  table 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS      165 

she  smiled  to  herself  a  happy  shame-faced  little 
smile,  and  every  now  and  then  flashed  a  rapid 
stealthy  glance  across  at  him.  It  was  evident  she 
wanted  to  be  admired,  but  dared  not  attract  his 
attention. 

When  she  came  within  the  circle  of  light  made 
by  the  lamp,  in  order  to  place  it  on  the  supper 
table,  he  turned  his  eyes  quickly  away  to  make 
her  think  he  had  noticed  nothing.  But  all  the  same 
he  could  not  resist  letting  fall  a  remark. 

"  How  conceited  we  are  of  our  new  clothes  I "  he 
said  banteringly. 

A  vivid  blush  spread  over  her  face  and  neck. 

"  They  are  much  too  good  for  me,"  she  whispered, 
still  smiling,  still  glancing  at  him  in  half-ashamed 
coquetry.  But  she  was  not  yet  daughter  of  Eve 
enough  to  take  a  sidelong  peep  at  herself  in  the 
glass. 

On  going  to  turn  down  his  bed  for  the  night,  she 
was  astonished  to  see  how  it  had  diminished  in 
size,  but  gulped  back  an  exclamation  of  surprise, 
lest  he  should  be  annoyed.  Then  wishing  him 
good-night  she  left  the  room. 

With  a  grin  of  inward  satisfaction  he  thought 
of  the  great  surprise  that  was  in  store  for  her, 
and  soon  became  engrossed  in  his  manuscripts 
again. 

About  an  hour  had  elapsed,  when  he  was  startled 
by  a  rustling  sound  at  the  back  of  his  chair.  He 
turned  round  and  found  her  standing  beside  him. 
Her  face  was  very  white,  her  lips  trembling,  her 


1 66     THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

breath  coming  quick  through  dilated  nostrils.  The 
fur  collarette  was  unfastened  at  the  throat,  and 
showed  the  coarse  chemise  underneath,  the  folds 
of  which  rose  and  fell  with  her  billowing  breast. 
In  the  excitement  of  the  moment  she  had  forgotten 
to  arrange  her  clothing. 

"  How  handsome  she  is ! "  he  thought,  filled  with 
involuntary  admiration  of  her  strange  beauty,  and 
then  he  tried  not  to  look  at  her. 

"  Now  then,  what's  the  matter  ?  "  he  asked  in  his 
gentlest  tones. 

She  made  an  effort  to  speak,  but  some  moments 
passed  before  a  sound  escaped  her  lips. 

"  Oh,  Herr  !  "  she  stammered  forth  at  last,  "  was 
it  you — did  you  do  that  with  the  beds  ?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course.     Who  else  should  do  it  ?  " 

"  But — why — why  ?  "  and  she  lifted  her  swimming 
eyes  in  alarm  and  consternation. 

Apparently  his  kindness  frightened  her.  It  was 
necessary  to  adopt  a  firmer  tone  in  order  to  become 
master  of  his  own  emotions. 

"Stupid  girl,"  he  said  loftily,  "do  you  think  I 
wish  you  to  die  out  there  of  cold  ?  " 

For  a  moment  she  stood  like  a  statue,  silent  and 
motionless,  and  big  sparkling  drops  rolled  down  her 
cheeks.  And  then  suddenly  she  threw  herself  at 
his  feet,  clung  to  both  his  hands,  and  covered  them 
with  kisses  and  tears. 

At  first  he  was  too  unnerved  and  thrilled  at  the 
sight  of  her  agitation  to  speak.  He  had  never 
imagined  that  she  would  be  so  deeply  moved. 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS      167 

Then  he  collected  himself,  and  withdrawing  his 
hands  commanded  her  to  rise. 

"  Don't  make  a  scene,  Regina,"  he  said.  "  Go  to 
bed.  I'm  sure  you  must  be  tired  out." 

She  would  have  wiped  her  eyes  with  her  sleeve, 
as  was  her  habit,  only  she  remembered  the  new 
soft  fur  trimming  in  time,  and  so  let  her  tears 
run  on. 

"  Ah,  Her r  /"  she  sobbed.  "  I  hardly  know  what's 
come  over  me.  But  were  you  really  serious  ?  I 
don't  deserve  all  your  kindness.  First  the  beautiful 
jacket,  and  then  when  I  expected  a  whipping  for 
being  gone  the  whole  day — for  you  to  ...  Oh " 

"  Say  no  more.  I  won't  listen  to  another  word," 
he  insisted.  "You  must  have  some  sort  of  bed. 
Where  used  you  to  sleep  before  ?  " 

She  started  and  cast  down  her  eyes. 

"  Before  ?  "  she  murmured. 

"  Yes,  in  my  father's  time." 

"  Ah,  then,  I  used  to  lie  on  the  door-mat  or " 

she  paused. 

"  Or  where  ?  " 

She  still  remained  silent,  and  trembled. 

"  Where  ?  "  he  asked  again. 

Her  eyes  moved  shyly  in  the  direction  of  the 
canopied  bed. 

"You  know;  ah,  you  know,  Herr"  she  mur- 
mured. And  then  overwhelmed  with  shame  she 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

Yes,  he  knew.  How  could  he  forget  it  for  a 
moment. 


1 68     THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

"  Begone ! "  he  cried,  his  voice  shaking  with 
anger  and  disgust,  and  he  motioned  her  to  the 
door. 

Without  a  word  she  crept  out,  her  head  still 
bowed  in  her  hands. 


CHAPTER  XI 

BOLESLAV  was  almost  happy.  He  had  hit  on  a 
new  and  brilliant  idea,  and  the  hopes  of  carrying  it 
out  brightened  for  a  time  the  deadening  monotony 
of  his  existence.  He  believed  he  could  clear  his 
father's  memory. 

How  it  had  first  occurred  to  him  he  hardly  knew. 
He  had  found  certain  letters  from  Polish  noblemen 
addressed  to  his  father,  which  seemed  to  suggest 
that  the  deceased  had  felt  himself  bound  by  a 
hastily-made  promise  which  at  the  time  he  had  not 
meant  seriously,  and  that  a  chain  of  tragic  circum- 
stances had  compelled  him  against  his  will  to  be  a 
party  to  the  treachery.  If  this  did  not  exonerate 
him  from  all  guilt,  it  at  least  put  the  slandered  man 
in  a  new  light — the  light  of  a  martyr. 

If  by  minute  study  of  the  documents  he  could 
trace  the  affair  to  its  source,  and  make  public  a  true 
history  of  the  disaster,  in  which  he  would  demon- 
strate that  Eberhard  von  Schranden,  far  from  having 
played  the  devilish  r61e  that  rumour  attributed  to 
him,  had  only  been  a  victim  of  circumstances,  surely 
there  would  at  least  arise  some  who  would  hold  out 
their  hand  in  remorse  to  the  sufferer's  heir.  The 
more  he  absorbed  himself  in  this  task  of  vindication 


1 70     THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

the  more  he  began  to  feel  united  with  the  dead  man, 
and  accustomed  to  the  idea  of  sacrificing  his  own 
innocent  reputation  for  his  sake. 

His  brain  was  so  much  occupied  with  these 
schemes  that  he  slept  little  at  night,  and  in  the 
daytime  tore  about  the  park  like  one  possessed. 
The  less  hope  he  cherished  in  his  secret  heart  that 
his  plan  would  succeed,  the  more  did  he  long  for 
some  human  soul  into  whose  ear  he  could  pour  his 
doubts  and  fears.  But  there  was  no  one  to  speak 
to  but  the  taciturn  woman,  who  glided  past  him 
with  eyes  guiltily  cast  down. 

One  evening,  when  his  solitude  almost  maddened 
him,  he  said  to  her — 

"  Regina,  aren't  you  frozen  in  your  kitchen  ?  " 

"  I  never  let  the  fire  out,  Herr" 

"But  what  do  you  do  in  the  evening,  when  it's 
dark?" 

"  I  sit  by  the  fire  and  sew,  till  my  fingers  get 
quite  stiff." 

"  Then  you  have  a  light  ?  " 

"  I  burn  fir-cones." 

He  was  silent;  he  gnawed  his  under-lip,  and 
hesitated  as  to  what  he  should  say  next.  Then  he 
took  courage. 

"  Regina,  if  you  like  you  may  bring  your  sewing 
into  the  sitting-room,  after  supper,"  he  said. 

She  grew  pale,  and  stammered  out,  "  Yes,  Herr" 

He  thought  her  wanting  in  gratitude. 

"Of  course,  if  you'd  rather  not — "  he  said, 
shrugging  his  shoulders. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      171 

*  Oh,  Herr — I  should  like  to  come." 

"Very  well,  then,  come;  but  you  must  make 
yourself  look  respectable.  Why  have  you  given 
up  wearing  your  new  clothes  ?  "  Since  that  even- 
ing she  had  taken  to  shivering  about  in  the  cotton 
jacket  again. 

"  I  thought  it  would  hurt  them." 

"  Hurt  them !     How  ?  " 

"  I  mean,"  she  said  incoherently,  "  that  when  you 
are  angry  with  me, — such  as  I,  am  not  fit " 

"  Nonsense  ! "  he  interrupted  quickly,  feeling  that 
if  she  went  on  he  would  be  angry  with  her  again. 

After  supper  she  appeared  in  some  trepidation  at 
the  door.  Snowy  linen  shimmered  in  her  hand. 
She  remained  standing  till  he  had  impatiently  in- 
vited her  to  sit  down. 

"You  want  people  to  stand  on  ceremony  with 
you,  as  if  you  were  some  fine  lady,"  he  said. 

She  laughed  in  confusion. 

"I  am  only  nervous,  Herr,  because  I  am  not 
quite  sure — how  to  behave."  And  she  turned  to 
her  work. 

No  more  passed  between  them  that  evening,  and 
it  was  more  than  a  week  before  they  broke  into 
conversation  again. 

He  sat  brooding  over  his  yellow  papers,  and  she 
let  her  needle  fly  through  the  crackling  calico. 
When  the  clock  struck  eleven,  she  gathered  up  her 
sewing,  and  whispering  "Good-night,"  slipped  out 
on  tiptoe  without  waiting  for  an  answer. 

"What  are  you  working  at  so  industriously?" 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

he  asked  her  one  evening,  after  he  had  watched 
her  intently  for  some  minutes. 

She  looked  up  and  pushed  a  curl  off  her  forehead 
with  damp  fingers. 

"I  am  making  shirts  for  you,  Herr"  was  the 
answer. 

"  So  you  undertake  that  too  ?  " 

"Who  else  should  do  it,  Herr?" 

A  short  silence ;  then  he  questioned  her  further. 

"  Who  taught  you  all  you  know,  Regina  ?  Your 
mother  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  "  My  mother  died  very 
young,  Herr.  I  can  hardly  remember  her.  ,  People 
say  my  father  beat  her  to  death." 

He  thought  of  the  thin  pale  face  and  tired  eyelids 
in  the  picture-gallery,  of  which  the  last  trace  had 
perished  in  the  great  fire. 

"  Can  you  remember  what  your  mother  was  like?" 
he  demanded  again. 

"  She  had  long  black  hair,  and  eyes  like  mine,  at 
least,  so  I  have  heard  people  say ;  and  I  can  re- 
member her  hair,  for  she  often  wrapped  me  in  it 
when  I  was  undressed.  I  used  to  sit  in  it  as  if 
it  were  a  cloak,  and  laugh ;  and  when  father — " 
She  stopped  in  sudden  alarm.  "But  you  won't 
care  to  hear  more,  Herr?" 

"  Go  on,  tell  me  the  rest,"  he  exclaimed. 

"And  when  father  came  home  and  wanted  to 
beat  me,  because  he  was  drunk,  you  know,  she 
stood  in  front  of  me,  and  told  me  to  get  under  her 
dress ;  and  inside  her  dress  it  was  like  being  in  a 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS      173 

cave,  quite  dark  and  still,  and  father's  swearing 
sounded  a  long,  long  way  off.  And  then  she  died. 
It  was  on  a  Sunday — yes,  it  was  on  a  Sunday. 
For  I  was  standing  by  the  hedge  and  wondering 
whether  she'd  have  a  beautiful  coffin — a  green  one, 
like  the  coffin  on  the  trestle  in  the  garden — when 
you,  Herr,  went  by  on  your  way  to  church.  At 
that  time  you  were  little,  like  me,  and  you  had  on 
a  blue  coat  with  silver  buttons,  and  a  little  sword  at 
your  side;  and  you  stopped  and  asked  me  why 
I  was  crying,  and  I  couldn't  answer,  I  was  so 
frightened,  and  then  you  gave  me  an  apple." 

He  had  not  the  smallest  recollection  of  the  in- 
cident, but  he  remembered  how  he  had  taken  the 
young  sparrow  away  from  her,  and  related  the 
story.  She  had  not  forgotten  it.  Her  eyes  be- 
came illumined,  as  if  lost  in  contemplation  of  some 
blissful  sight. 

"  I  wonder,  now,  that  you  gave  it  up  so  meekly," 
he  said. 

"  How  could  I  have  done  otherwise  ? "  she 
answered. 

"  You  might  easily  have  refused,"  he  said. 

She  bent  over  her  work.  "  I  was  only  so  glad 
for  you  to  have  it,"  she  said,  in  a  low  soft  voice. 
"It's  not  often  that  a  poor  little  village  girl  gets 
the  chance  of  giving  anything  to  a  rich  young 
nobleman." 

He  bit  his  lips.  Truly  he  had  taken  more  from 
her  since  than  his  pride  and  manliness  should  have 
permitted. 


174     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"And  besides,"  she  went  on,  "even  if  I  hadn't 
wanted  to  give  it  to  you,  it  was  yours  by  right. 
You  were  the  Junker" 

How  perfectly  natural  the  argument  sounded 
from  her  lips. 

"  Regina,  tell  me  honestly,"  he  said,  "  if  you 
haven't  entirely  forgotten  the  days  when  you  ran 
wild  in  the  village." 

"Oh  no,  Herr ;  indeed  I  haven't,"  she  replied, 
with  an  almost  roguish  smile.  "  For  instance,  I 
remember  a  great  many  things  about  the  gnddiger 
Junker" 

He  withdrew  far  back  into  the  shadow  of  the 
lamp-shade.  "What  splendid  stuff  she  has  in 
her ! "  he  thought,  and  devoured  her  with  his  eyes. 
And  then  he  made  her  relate  all  her  reminiscences 
of  him  at  that  time.  He  did  not  appear  in  a  very 
amiable  light.  Once  he  had  pushed  her  into  a  duck- 
pond  ;  another  time  sent  her  floating  down  the  river 
in  a  flour-vat,  till  her  cries  of  terror  had  brought 
people  to  the  bank  with  life-saving  apparatus ;  when 
she  had  on  a  new  white  frock,  given  her  by  the 
Castle  housekeeper,  he  had  painted  her  hands  and 
face  with  white  chalk,  and  told  her  to  stand  motion- 
less like  one  of  the  statues  in  the  Park.  She  had 
submitted  meekly  till  the  chalk  got  into  her  mouth 
and  eyes  and  made  them  smart,  and  then  she  had 
burst  out  crying  and  run  away. 

She  recalled  all  this  with  beaming  eyes,  as  if  his 
pranks  had  been  a  source  of  infinite  happiness  to 
her.  Although  when  reminded  of  such  and  such 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      175 

an  escapade  he  recollected  it  perfectly,  he  could  not 
remember  that  it  was  Regina  who  had  been  the 
victim  of  his  caprice.  A  sensation  of  shame  rose 
within  him.  Instead  of  the  dreamy,  generous 
young  cavalier  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  pictur- 
ing himself,  he  saw  a  cruel  little  village  tyrant,  who 
exercised  his  power  over  his  small  contemporaries 
with  a  relentlessness  that  was  almost  vicious. 

"And  did  I  make  no  amends  for  my  wicked 
deeds  ? "  he  inquired,  hoping  to  hear  he  had  at 
least  been  capable  of  doing  good  sometimes. 

"  Oh,  you  used  to  give  us  things,"  she  answered. 
" '  Divide  that/  you  used  to  say,  and  scatter  on 
the  ground  either  apples  and  nuts,  or  broken  tin 
soldiers,  or  a  handful  of  counters.  But,  of  course, 
the  strongest  and  biggest  got  everything.  Felix 
Merckel  was  the  best  at  a  scramble ;  the  girls  only 
had  the  leavings." 

"And  did  you  ever  get  anything  from  me, 
Regina  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  flushed  scarlet,  and  bowed  lower  over  her 
work.  "  Yes,  Herr,  once !  "  she  said  softly. 

"  What  was  it  ?  " 

She  was  silent,  and  dared  not  lift  her  eyes. 

"Good  heavens!  why  do  you  look  so  ashamed 
about  it  ?  " 

"  Because — I  .  .  .  have  it  still." 

"Oh,  not  really!"  He  smiled.  A  feeling  of 
pleasure  shot  through  him. 

Without  answering,  she  felt  in  the  pocket  of  her 
dress,  and  laid  before  him  on  the  table  a  little  straw 


1/6     THE  SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

box  plaited  out  of  coloured  blades.  It  was  hardly 
bigger  than  a  baby's  fist. 

He  held  it  in  his  hand,  and  examined  it  all  over 
attentively.  Something  rattled  inside. 

"  May  I  open  it  ?  " 

"You  needn't  ask,  Herri" 

It  was  a  ring  of  glass  beads— blue,  white,  and 
yellow,  such  as  a  little  girl,  following  the  first  in- 
stincts of  vanity,  threads  for  herself.  He  took  it 
out,  and  tried  to  force  it  on  his  little  finger,  but  it 
was  far  too  narrow,  and  he  couldn't  get  it  over  his 
nail. 

"  Did  I  give  you  the  ring  too  ?  "  he  asked. 

"No,  Herr,  it  belonged  to  my  dear  mother.  It 
cut  into  her  flesh  once,  and  that's  why  I  used  to 
wear  it  day  and  night  till  the  thread  broke.  Then 
she  had  been  dead  a  long  time,  and  as  it  was  the 
only  keepsake  I  had  of  her,  I  threaded  the  beads 
again,  and  have  never  parted  with  the  ring,  and  I 
always  have  it  on  me." 

"In  my  little  box?" 

She  nodded,  and  her  head  drooped.  "Why 
shouldn't  I,  Herr  ?  "  she  said  in  a  whisper,  "  it  brings 
me  luck." 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  compassionate  smile. 
"  Luck  ?  Brings  you  luck  ?  " 

"I'll  tell  you  how,  Herr"  she  exclaimed  trium- 
phantly. "  Every  bead  you  count " 

But  at  that  moment  he  leant  back  in  his  chair, 
and  the  ring  slipped  through  his  fingers  on  to  the 
floor. 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS      177 

Regina  started  up  and  hurried  round  the  table  to 
pick  it  up,  but  could  not  find  it. 

"The  earth  seems  to  have  swallowed  it  up,"  she 
said  in  alarm,  and  she  dropped  on  to  all  fours  close 
by  Boleslav's  side. 

He  saw  the  nape  «f  her  beautiful  neck  with  its 
fringe  of  crisp,  dark  curls,  gleaming  near  his  knee. 
His  heart  began  to  beat,  a  cold  shiver  thrilled 
through  his  limbs.  He  stared  down  on  her  with  a 
fixed  smile. 

"Here  it  is!"  she  exclaimed,  and  raised  herself 
into  a  kneeling  position  to  hand  him  the  treasured 
bauble. 

He  lifted  his  hand.  He  felt  as  if  some  occult 
power  had  lifted  it  for  him,  and  that  it  weighed 
hundreds  of  pounds.  Then  with  a  timid,  caressing 
touch  he  laid  it  on  her  cheek. 

She  drew  back  trembling.  A  great  light  swam 
in  her  eyes,  that  rested  on  him  in  dreamy  inquiry. 
His  arm  sank  heavily  to  his  side. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  murmured  hoarsely. 

She  went  back  to  her  place,  and  there  was  a 
profound  stillness.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had 
committed  a  crime,  and  that  every  moment  of  silence 
between  them  made  it  worse.  He  must  force  himself 
to  speak. 

"  What  was  I  asking  you  ?  Ah !  to  be  sure.  Who 
taught  you  to  sew  ?  " 

She  had  unthreaded  her  needle,  and  was  trying 
hard  to  pull  the  cotton  through  the  eye  again. 

But   the  small  glittering   shaft   oscillated   between 

If 


i;8     THE  SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

her  unsteady  fingers  like  a  reed  shaken  by  the 
wind. 

"I  learnt  at  the  parsonage,  fferr"  she  replied. 

"  Helene  had  a  class '  She  paused,  embarrassed, 

for  at  the  sound  of  the  beloved  name,  which  he  heard 
for  the  first  time  from  her  lips — such  lips — he  winced 
as  if  from  the  lash  of  a  whip.  She  took  his  excite- 
ment for  anger,  and  added  apologetically,  "  I  mean 
the  Pastor's  daughter." 

"  Never  mind,"  he  said,  controlling  himself  with 
difficulty.  "  Go  to  bed  now." 

That  night  Boleslav  fought  a  severe  battle  with 
himself.  He  felt  as  if  his  ideal  of  exalted  purity 
had  been  polluted  since  his  eyes  had  rested  with 
favour  on  this  abandoned  woman.  And  he  himself 
was  polluted  too  by  that  involuntary  caress. 

It  was  absolutely  necessary  to  regain  his  peace  of 
mind  and  purity.  He  must  come  to  some  distinct 
understanding  with  Helene  without  delay,  in  order 
that  he  might  be  strengthened  in  his  struggle  against 
his  treacherous  senses  and  benumbing  doubt. 

So  urgent  did  it  seem  that  his  resolutions  should 
at  once  be  put  into  force,  that  he  rose  in  the  middle 
of  the  night,  and  by  the  glimmer  of  his  night-light 
wrote  to  Helene  assuring  her  of  his  undying  love 
and  eternal  devotion,  and  imploring  her  to  make 
some  sign  to  show  that  she  stood  by  him  in  trouble 
as  she  had  once  done  in  happiness,  so  that  he  might 
know  for  certain  it  was  worth  while  his  continuing 
to  wage  for  her  sake  the  fight  against  such  enor- 
mous odds.  With  every  line  he  wrote,  his  anxiety 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS      179 

lessened,  and  when  he  lay  down  in  his  bed  again,  he 
felt  that,  through  bracing  his  energies  for  the  task, 
he  had  relieved  himself  of  a  load  of  care  that  had 
long  heavily  oppressed  him. 

"  Can  you  undertake,  Regina,"  he  asked  the  next 
evening,  "  to  deliver  this  letter  unseen  to  the  Frdu- 
lein  at  the  parsonage  ?  " 

She  regarded  him  for  a  second  with  wide  eyes, 
then  looking  down,  she  murmured,  "  Yes,  Herr." 

"But  supposing  they  attack  you  down  in  the 
village  ?  " 

"  Pah  !  What  do  I  care  for  them  ?"  she  exclaimed, 
shrugging  her  shoulders  contemptuously,  as  she 
always  did  when  the  villagers  were  in  question. 

Soon  afterwards  he  saw  her  glide  by  the  window 
like  a  shadow  and  disappear  in  the  gloaming. 

Hours  passed.  She  did  not  return.  He  began 
to  reproach  himself  for  having  engaged  her  in  his 
amatory  mission  when  her  life  was  at  stake. 

At  last,  towards  midnight,  he  heard  the  front  door 
latch  click. 

She  appeared  on  the  threshold  with  chattering 
teeth,  blue  with  cold,  the  letter  still  grasped  in 
her  cramped  fingers. 

He  made  her  sit  down  by  the  stove,  and  gave  her 
Spanish  wine  to  drink — and  gradually  she  found  her 
voice. 

"  I  have  been  lying  all  this  time  in  the  snow 
under  the  parsonage  hedge,"  she  said,  "but  there 
was  no  possibility  of  getting  at  her.  Just  now  she 
put  the  light  out  in  her  bedroom,  so  I  came  home. 


i8o     THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

But  don't  be  vexed,  Herr.  Perhaps  I  shall  have 
better  luck  to-morrow." 

He  wouldn't  hear  of  her  repeating  the  adventure, 
but  when  she  came  to  him  the  following  evening 
equipped  for  her  walk,  he  did  not  forbid  her  to  go. 

This  time  she  came  back  with  glowing  cheeks, 
panting  for  breath.  Two  peasants  on  their  way 
home  from  the  Black  Eagle  had  seen  her  and  given 
chase. 

"But  to-morrow,  Herr,  to-morrow,  I  shall  suc- 
ceed." 

She  was  right.  More  breathless  than  the  evening 
before,  but  radiant  with  delight,  she  came  into  the 
room,  and  stood  at  the  door,  stretching  out  two 
empty  hands  in  triumph. 

"  Thank  God,"  he  thought,  "  that  I  shan't  have  to 
send  her  a  fourth  time  on  a  fool's  errand." 

In  joyous  excitement  she  told  him  all  about  it. 
Sultan,  the  big  dog  in  the  kennel,  knew  her ;  and  as 
a  hostage  she  had  taken  him  a  bone,  then  he  had 
permitted  her  to  stand  at  the  back  door  and  look 
through  the  keyhole.  She  had  seen  Helene  standing 
at  the  great  store-cupboard.  "  I  knew  that  Helene, 
— I  mean  the  pastor's  Fraulein, — went  to  the  store- 
cupboard  every  night  to  put  out  coffee  and  oatmeal 
for  the  morning,"  she  explained,  "  and  sure  enough 
I  just  timed  her  right,  for  there  was  her  candle 
flickering  in  my  face,  and  she  standing  within  three 
steps  of  me " 

He  gave  a  deep  sigh.  Happy  creature  1  She  had 
seen  her  I 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS      181 

I  opened  the  back  door  very  softly,  and  called, 
'  Helene,  Fraulein  Helene  ! '  And  when  she  caught 
sight  of  me,  she  screamed  and  let  the  candle  fall. 
4  Helene,'  I  said,  '  I  am  not  going  to  hurt  you.  Here 
is  a  letter  from  Junker  Boleslav.' 

"  She  trembled  so,  she  could  hardly  take  the  letter 
out  of  my  hand.  And  then  she  shrieked  in  horror, 
'  Go !  Go  at  once  ! '  And  almost  before  I  could  tell 
her  about  the  letter-box  on  the  drawbridge,  she  had 
slammed  the  door  and  bolted  it  in  my  face.  Ah, 
dear  God ! "  she  added  with  a  melancholy  little 
smile.  "  I  am  used  to  being  treated  in  that  way,  but 
she  might  have  been  kinder  because  I  brought  a 
message  from  you  !  " 

He  leant  his  head  on  his  hands.  Helene's  con- 
duct gave  him  food  for  meditation.  Of  course  her 
reception  of  her  fallen  playmate  was  in  every  way 
excusable.  No  wonder  that  her  chaste  and  maidenly 
soul  revolted  at  the  sight  of  this  unfortunate  girl ! 

Every  day  Regina  now  ran  down  to  the  draw- 
bridge to  peep  into  the  letter-box  that  was  fastened 
to  a  pillar  there,  to  see  if  there  was  an  answer  from 
Helene.  But  the  letter-box  remained  empty;  and 
Boleslav's  brighter  mood  soon  clouded  again.  He 
became  more  bitter  and  defiant  than  ever,  and  a 
prey  to  tormenting  reflections.  In  his  pride  he 
would  not  allow  that  he  had  been  spurned  by  the 
woman  he  loved;  yet  it  was  hardly  any  longer  a 
matter  for  doubt  that  she  wished  in  no  way  to  be 
associated  with  him  in  his  dishonour.  He  saw  his 
great  plans  for  the  future  fall  in  ruins  in  this 


1 82     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

abandonment  of  hope  of  winning  the  love  of  his 
youth. 

Many  days  went  by  before  he  roused  himself 
from  this  fresh  depression — it  was  not  till  the 
feverish  unrest  of  waiting  had  subsided  that  he 
slowly  recovered  his  calmness  and  fortitude. 

Then  he  threw  himself  with  renewed  energy  into 
the  search  for  proofs  of  his  father's  innocence. 
The  evidence  was  contradictory  and  confused. 
Letters  in  which  his  father  was  referred  to  as 
the  staunchest  of  Prussian  patriots  were  counterbal- 
anced by  others  in  which  he  was  addressed  as  the 
pioneer  of  Polish  liberty.  That  might  possibly  have 
been  a  mere  figure  of  flattering  speech,  designed  to 
win  over  the  vacillating  nobleman,  but  to  make  it 
public"  would  be  once  more  putting  the  deceased's 
reputation  in  the  pillory. 

During  these  disheartening  investigations  of  the 
truth,  his  only  refreshment  was  the  evening  hours 
in  which  Regina's  presence  gave  him  something 
else  to  think  about.  So  soon  as  she  came  and  sat 
down  opposite  him  he  felt  a  curious  satisfaction 
mingled  with  uneasiness.  Sometimes,  before  she 
made  her  appearance,  and  he  with  bowed  head 
listened  to  the  sounds  that  came  from  her  kitchen, 
he  would  be  suddenly  seized  with  Thixiety,  and  feel 
as  if  he  must  jump  up  and  call  out,  "  Stay  where 
you  are !  Don't  come ! "  And  yet,  when  she  walked 
into  the  room  he  breathed  more  freely.  "  It  is 
loneliness  that  attracts  me  to  her,"  he  often  told  him- 
self. "  She  has  a  human  face  and  a  human  voice." 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      183 

As  she  sat  over  her  work  silently  putting  in  stitch 
after  stitch,  he  would  pretend  to  be  napping,  and 
with  closed  eyes  listen  to  the  rise  and  fall  of  her 
breath.  It  was  a  full,  slow,  muffled  sound,  which 
fell  on  his  ear  like  suppressed  music.  It  resembled 
the  ebbing  and  flowing  of  an  ocean  of  restrained 
life  and  energy.  After  she  had  been  sitting  for  a 
long  time  in  a  stooping  attitude  she  would  suddenly 
straighten  herself,  and  stretch  her  arms  with  closed 
fingers  over  the  sides  of  the  chair,  till  the  curve 
of  her  bosom  stood  out  in  powerful  grandeur,  and 
threatened  to  burst  its  bonds.  It  was  as  if  from  time 
to  time  she  was  obliged  to  become  conscious  of  the 
fulness  of  life  that  pulsated  and  throbbed  within  her. 

Then  she  resumed  her  old  attitude  and  quietly 
sewed  on. 

It  lasted  all  too  short  a  time.  These  hours  spent 
in  hen  society  had  unconsciously  become  dear  to 
him,  and  almost  indispensable.  The  lamp  seemed 
to  give  a  brighter  light  since  its  rays  fell  on  that 
pile  of  shining  white  linen  ;  the  hand  of  the  clock 
accelerated  its  pace  now  he  was  not  always  looking 
at  it  to  hurry  it  onwards.  The  wind  that  used  to 
howl  and  whistle  so  dismally  in  the  branches  of  the 
trees  now  murmured  soft  lullabies,  and  even  the 
laths  in  the  rotten  roof  cracked  less  ominously. 
He.  dreaded  the  evenings  when  at  dusk  she  started 
on  her  journey  to  Bockeldorf,  and  more  than  once 
had  meditated  accompanying  her. 

But  in  their  relations,  that  had  become  so  friendly, 
there  was  one  blot,  and  the  knowledge  of  it  pierced 


1 84     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

him  at  times  like  a  poisonous  arrow.  Often,  after 
he  had  been  watching  her  in  silence,  he  was  tor- 
mented with  a  desire  to  penetrate  into  the  secrets 
of  her  past,  and  to  cross-examine  her  on  the  subject 
of  her  intercourse  with  the  dead.  For  long  he  kept 
back  the  questions  that  burned  on  the  tip  of  his 
tongue,  feeling  that  little  good  could  come  of  asking 
them ;  but  at  last  he  felt  driven  to  speak. 

"  She  is  the  only  living  witness  of  the  catastrophe," 
he  thought;  "what's  more,  the  only  accomplice. 
She  alone  can  give  authentic  information." 

And  one  evening  he  broke  the  silence  which  had 
been  so  enjoyable  to  both,  with  a  brusque  demand 
that  she  should  tell  him  all  she  knew. 

She  changed  colour,  and  dropped  her  hands  in 
her  lap. 

"  You'll  only  be  angry  with  me  again,  Herr"  she 
stammered. 

"  Do  as  I  bid  you." 

She  still  hesitated.  "  It's  ...  so  long  ago,"  she 
whispered  piteously,  "  and  I  don't  know  how  to  tell 
things." 

"  But  you  can  at  least  answer  questions." 

Then  she  resigned  herself  to  fate. 

"Who  was  it  that  first  suggested  to  you  the 
midnight  sortie  ?  " 

" The gnddiger  Herr" 

He  clenched  his  teeth.     "  When  and  how  ?  " 

"  The  gnddiger  Herr  ordered  me  to  wait  at  table. 
The  great  candelabra,  that  was  hardly  ever  lit  as  a 
rule,  was  burning,  and  shone  on  the  gold  uniforms 


THE   SINS    OF   THL    FATHERS      185 

of  the  French  officers,  and  it  was  all  so  dazzling 
I  felt  quite  giddy  when  I  carried  the  soup  into  the 
hall.  They  all  laughed  and  pointed  at  me,  and 
spoke  in  French,  which  I  didn't  understand." 

"  How  many  were  there  ?  " 

"Five,  and  one  with  grey  hair,  who  was  the 
General,  and  had  the  most  gold  on  his  coat ;  and 
when  I  brought  him  the  soup  he  caught  hold  of  me 
round  the  waist,  and  I  put  the  plate  down  on  his 
finger  and  pinched  it.  Then  .they  all  laughed  again, 
and  the  gnadiger  Herr  said,  '  Don't  be  so  clumsy, 
Regina.'  I  felt  so  ashamed  and  vexed  at  his  saying 
that  that  I  said,  quite  loud,  I  didn't  see  why  I  should 
wait  if  I  was  only  to  be  scolded  for  it.  Then  they 
laughed  louder  than  ever,  and  the  General  began  to 
speak  German,  like  little  children  speak  it.  'You 
are  a  plucky,  pretty  little  girl,'  he  said;  and  the 
gnadiger  Herr  told  him  I  was  a  girl  who  might 
prove  useful  to  him  and  them  all — or  something  of 
the  kind.  And  when  I  brought  in  the  liqueur  at 
the  end  of  dinner,  he  drew  me  down  to  him  and 
whispered  in  my  ear.  I  was  to  go  to  him  in  the 
night." 

He  started  up.     "  And  you  went  ?  " 

She  cast  down  her  eyes. 

"  Ah,  Herr"  she  said  imploringly,  " why  do  you 
ask  me  ?  I  wish  you  wouldn't.  I  had  often  done 
it  before,  and  I  saw  no  harm  in  it  then." 

He  felt  his  blood  boiling. 

"  How  old  were  you  at  that  time  ?" 

"Fifteen." 


1 86     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"  And  so  corrupt — so "  His  voice  died  away 

in  wrath. 

She  cast  an  unspeakably  sad  and  reproachful 
glance  at  him. 

"  I  knew  you'd  be  angry,"  she  said,  "  but  I  can't 
make  myself  out  better  than  I  am." 

"  Continue  your  story,"  he  cried. 

"And  when  I  went  to  him  at  midnight  he  was 
still  up,  striding  round  the  table,  and  he  asked  me 
if  I  should  like  to  earn  a  great  sum  of  money.  '  Of 
course,  gnadiger  Herr]  I  said,  '  I  should  like  it  very 
much,'  for  then  I  was  very  poor.  Whereupon  he 
asked  me  if  I  was  afraid  of  the  dark.  I  laughed, 
and  said  he  ought  to  know  best ;  and  after  a  few 
more  questions  it  came  out  what  he  wanted  me  to 
do.  Could  I  be  trusted  to  show  the  French  the  way 
over  the  Cats'  Bridge  and  through  the  wood  in  an 
hour  ?  I  began  to  cry,  for  the  French  had  behaved 
dreadfully  since  they  had  been  quartered  in  the 
Castle,  running  after  and  insulting  all  the  servant- 
girls,  and  I  was  afraid  they  might  insult  me  too." 

"Oh,  you  were  afraid  of  that,  were  you?"  he 
interposed  with  a  contemptuous  smile. 

"  Yes ;  and  I  told  the  gnadiger  Herr  nothing 
would  induce  me  to  do  it.  But  then  he  became 
terribly  angry,  and  thumped  me  on  the  shoulders 
till  I  sank  on  my  knees,  and  he  cried  out  that  I  was 
an  ungrateful  hussy,  and  that  he  would  have  me 
sent  back  to  the  village  in  disgrace,  and  would  tell 
the  Herr  Pastor  what  sort  of  a  wench  I  was,  and 
he  would  make  me  confess  and  do  penance;  and 


THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS      187 

then  he  took  me  by  the  throat,  and  when  he  had 
almost  throttled  me,  and  I  could  scarcely  draw  a 
breath,  then,  then  ..." 

"Say  no  more,"  interrupted  Boleslav;  and  seiz- 
ing the  letters  that  were  to  establish  his  father's 
innocence,  he  tore  them  to  pieces. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  next  morning  he  took  one  of  the  guns  out  of 
the  case,  and  wandered  into  the  snowy  forest.  He 
tramped  about  the  whole  day  without  meeting  a 
single  human  creature.  The  deer  and  hares  were 
left  in  peace,  for  he  stared  beyond  them  into 
vacancy.  At  dusk  he  turned  his  footsteps  home- 
wards, dispirited  and  worn  out. 

He  saw  Regina  standing  like  a  statue  on  the 
Cats'  Bridge  looking  out  for  him.  At  first  she 
looked  as  if  she  intended  to  run  and  meet  him, 
but  she  changed  her  mind,  and  took  the  path  to 
the  house,  smiling  and  murmuring  to  herself  as 
she  went. 

But  when  she  brought  in  his  meal  she  was  as 
silent  as  usual.  He  sat  without  looking  at  her  till 
a  sound  like  a  short  convulsive  sob  roused  him 
from  his  reverie. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

Without  answering,  she  ran  out  of  the  room. 
He  made  a  movement  as  if  he  were  about  to  follow 
her  ;  then  set  his  teeth  and  sat  down  again.  A  dull 
resentment  devoured  him.  He  could  not  forgive 
her  for  depriving  him  of  the  illusion  on  which  for 

weeks  he  had  been  building  so  many  vague  hopes. 
its 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS      189 

Now  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  drink  the 
cup  of  degradation  to  the  dregs,  no  matter  how 
bitter  the  bottom  might  taste. 

In  a  little  while  Regina  appeared  again,  in  her 
outdoor  things. 

"  You  wish  to  go  out  to-night,  then  ?  "  he  asked 
harshly. 

She  kept  her  head  half  averted,  so  that  he  should 
not  see  she  had  red  eyes. 

"To-morrow  is  Christmas,  Herr — the  holy  feast 
day;  and  the  grocer  says  that  on  Christmas  night 
he  would  rather  not  be  disturbed." 

Christmas !  holy  feast !  How  strange  and  like 
a  fairy  tale  that  sounded.  Then  there  was  still 
rejoicing  and  festivity  going  on  in  the  world ! 
People  still  joined  hands  and  frolicked  round  glit- 
tering fir-tree ! 

"You  wish  to  get  your  Christmas  presents,  I 
suppose,  Regina  ?  "  he  inquired,  smiling  bitterly. 

"Oh  no,  Herr"  she  replied.  "That  has  never 
been  the  custom  here.  Besides,  now  I  should  take 
no  pleasure  in  such  things." 

"Why  not?" 

She  hesitated,  and  then  said  in  some  embarrass- 
ment, " Let  me  go,  Herr" 

"  I  have  a  great  deal  to  ask  you  yet,  Regina." 

"  Please,  not  now,  else " 

"Very  well,  go." 

"Good-night,  Herr." 

"  Good-night."  Then  he  called  her  back.  "  Tell 
me  first,  what  did  that  sob  mean  just  now." 


ipo     THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

A  ray  of  half-ashamed  happiness  shone  in  the 
eyes  that  were  swollen  from  weeping. 

"  Can't  you  guess,  Herr  ?  " 

He  shook  his  head. 

"I  had  been  so  anxious  about  you.  I  thought 
perhaps  you  weren't  coming  back,  and  then  when 

you  did "  She  turned  and  fled  through  the 

door.  Her  footsteps  died  away  in  the  night.  .  .  . 

The  following  morning  Boleslav  was  awakened 
by  a  great  rushing  and  roaring  that  had  for  some 
time  mingled  with  his  dreams.  A  terrific  storm 
was  raging.  The  topmost  branches  of  the  poplars 
lashed  each  other  in  fury.  Huge  white  clouds 
were  swept  along  the  ground,  but  the  air  was 
clear.  Another  fall  of  snow  seemed  improbable. 
To-day  he  could  not  rest  in  the  desolate,  cold  little 
house,  and  went  out  to  wrestle  with  the  elements. 

"She  will  have  a  bad  time  of  it,"  he  thought, 
as  the  north  wind  hurled  in  his  face  a  shower  of 
fine  icicles  that  pricked  like  needles  and  almost 
took  his  breath  away.  In  the  wood  it  was  more 
sheltered.  There  the  tempest  crashed  and  crunched 
in  the  tops  of  the  trees,  seeming  to  vent  all  its 
fury  on  them.  He  walked  on,  not  knowing  where 
he  was  going,  and  then  found  himself  on  the  road 
to  Bockeldorf. 

"  It  looks  as  if  I  were  running  after  her,"  he 
murmured,  chiding  himself;  and  he  struck  into  the 
pathless  thicket. 

He  thought  how  remarkable  it  was  that  this 
degraded  being  should  creep  so  much  into  his 


THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS      191 

thoughts.  Of  course  it  was  because  he  had  been 
thrown  with  her  day  after  day,  and  depended 
upon  her  entirely  for  human  society.  Yet  he  was 
alarmed,  for  he  realised  now,  perhaps  more  than 
he  had  ever  done  before,  how  he  felt  himself  every 
day  more  drawn  towards  her,  and  how  much  there 
was  in  her  that  began  to  appear  comprehensible, 
excusable,  and  even  noble,  that  once  had  only 
seemed  to  testify  to  her  innate  coarseness,  and 
repelled  him  from  her  in  disgust. 

But  without  a  doubt  contact  with  her  was  doing 
him  no  good.  She  was  drawing  him  down  into  the 
slough  of  her  own  worthless  existence. 

Something  must  be  done.  Above  all,  it  was 
necessary  to  stand  in  less  familiar  relations  with 
her,  to  repress  her,  and  lower  her  again  to  her 
old  position  of  humble  and  despised  servant-girl. 
The  festival  of  Christmas  was  a  good  opportunity 
of  paying  her  off  with  a  loan,  the  handsomeness 
of  which  would  discharge  his  obligations  to  her 
for  all  time.  With  a  stroke  of  the  pen  he  would 
provide  for  her  future,  and  thereby  purchase  the 
right  to  regard  her  as  what  she  actually  was — 
his  humble  dependant  and  menial.  She  should 
give  him  her  company  to-day  for  the  last  time. 
She  had  not  yet  finished  her  evidence,  and  as  he 
had  once  broken  the  ice  he  might  as  well  know 
everything.  Of  those  two  awful  nights  of  guilt 
and  shame,  in  which  she  had  been  a  witness  of 
bloodshed  and  arson,  he  would  hear  the  worst. 

"And    then   when   she  has   confessed    all/'  he 


192      THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

said  to  himself,  "she  shall  keep  to  her  green-house, 
which  is  her  proper  place,  even  if  she  has  to  burn 
all  the  timber  in  the  park  to  prevent  herself  from 
freezing." 

It  was  not  seemly  that  in  this  solitude  he  should 
associate  so  much  with  her,  and  he  made  up  his 
mind  to  put  an  end  to  the  intimacy  once  for  all. 

A  hare  crossed  his  path  and  turned  his  thoughts 
into  another  channel.  He  aimed  and  hit  it.  The 
little  animal  rotated  three  times,  and  then  lay 
motionless  on  its  nose. 

"She  will  be  pleased,"  he  thought,  as  he  slung  his 
booty  over  his  shoulder.  Ah !  there  he  was  thinking 
of  her  again  already. 

The  sky  meanwhile  had  clouded.  A  sharp 
shower  of  prickly  white  flakes  cut  through  the  trees ; 
a  wild  hiss  now  mingled  with  the  roar  of  the  wind 
that  made  him  shiver  involuntarily  in  every  limb. 
By  aid  of  his  compass  he  found  the  way  home. 
When  he  entered  the  open  fields  the  snow-storm  was 
in  full  swing.  He  could  scarcely  stand  against  it. 
The  air  was  dark  with  the  falling  masses  of  snow. 
There  was  not  a  trace  visible  of  the  shrubs  in  the 
park  only  three  hundred  feet  away. 

"It's  to  be  hoped  she's  got  home,"  he  thought,  as 
he  struggled  on. 

Freshly  fallen  snow  lay  thick  on  the  Cats'  Bridge  ; 
there  were  no  footprints  in  it,  but  they  might  easily 
have  been  obliterated. 

With  a  sinking  heart,  he  ran  to  the  house  and 
called  her  by  name,  but  got  no  answer.  The 


THE  SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS      193 

hearth  was  unswept,  the  fire  out,  the  beds  unmade 
as  he  had  left  them. 

She  had  been  overtaken  by  the  storm,  that  she 
feared  more  than  she  feared  the  Schrandeners.  A 
torturing  uneasiness  took  possession  of  him.  He 
rushed  from  one  room  to  the  other,  lit  the  fire  and 
extinguished  it  again,  tried  to  eat,  and  then  threw 
down  his  knife  and  fork  impatiently.  It  struck  him 
as  ludicrous  that  he  should  be  so  anxious.  Had 
she  not  for  six  winters  gone  backwards  and  for- 
wards in  wind  and  rain  and  snow,  and  never  yet 
met  with  an  accident  ?  Why  should  anything 
happen  to  her  to-day?  To  kill  time  he  sat  down 
to  his  desk,  and  with  numb  fingers  made  out  a 
cheque.  The  sum  amounted  to  three  figures. 
Regina  ought  to  be  satisfied. 

Darkness  set  in.  The  hand  of  the  clock  pointed 
to  three,  and  yet  it  was  already  like  night.  He 
could  contain  himself  indoors  no  longer.  He  would 
at  least  go  as  far  as  the  Cats'  Bridge  and  see  if  there 
was  any  sign  of  her.  To  prevent  the  wind  pitching 
him  over,  he  was  obliged  to  hold  on  with  all  his 
might  to  the  balustrade.  The  rickety  woodwork 
shook  in  all  its  joints.  On  the  ice  beneath  him 
danced  a  maze  of  spiral  patterns;  lily-stems  grew 
upwards  and  sank  again  in  heaps  of  white  dust, 
which  in  their  turn  were  whirled  away  to  make 
room  for  other  fantastic  forms.  The  Madonna's 
garden  rose  for  a  moment  and  then  vanished;  for 
a  figure  drew  nearer  and  nearer  out  of  the  twilight, 
casting  its  shadow  before  it 

N    * 


I94     THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS 

"  Regina,  thank  God  !  " 

He  was  on  the  point  of  rushing  to  meet  her,  when 
he  was  overcome  with  a  sensation  of  shame  that  para- 
lysed his  limbs  and  drove  the  blood  to  his  heart. 

On  this  very  spot  where  he  now  waited  for  her, 
she  had  yesterday  waited  for  him ;  looking  out  into 
the  dusk  because  she  had  not  been  able  to  rest  for 
anxiety  about  him,  just  as  to-day  he  could  not  rest 
for  anxiety  about  her. 

For  a  moment  he  felt  a  strong  inclination  to  dive 
behind  the  bushes,  so  that  she  should  not  see  him ; 
but  the  next  he  was  ashamed  of  being  ashamed,  and 
stepped  forward  to  meet  her  on  the  Cats'  Bridge. 

"You  have  had  a  bad  time  of  it,  Regina,"  he 
called  out ;  and  tried  to  relieve  her  of  the  sack  she 
carried  on  her  back. 

But  she  quickly  dodged  him,  holding  out  her 
elbows  in  protest.  She  was  muffled  to  the  eyes  in 
shawls,  and  could  not  speak.  They  walked  to  the 
door  in  silence.  On  the  threshold  she  turned  and 
tore  the  wraps  from  her  face. 

"  I  have  a  favour  to  ask,  fferr,"  she  said  breath- 
lessly. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Would  you  mind  staying  out  another  half-hour, 
or  going  into  the  kitchen,  so  that  I  can  warm  the 
room  and  tidy  up  a  little  ?  " 

"  But  you  must  rest  first" 

"  Not  now,  Herr,  if  you  don't  mind." 

And  she  went  in,  letting  her  burdens  fall  to  the 
floor  in  the  darkness. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      195 

'She  may  bustle  about  in  there  for  a  few 
mmutes  if  she  likes,"  he  thought;  and  turned  to 
look  for  a  temporary  shelter  among  the  ruins. 

Warm  air  ascended  from  the  cellars.  He  struck 
a  light,  and  went  down  the  slippery  steps.  He  felt 
curiously  light-hearted  almost,  as  if  Christmas  had 
biought  him  joy. 

The  rows  of  wine-bottles  with  their  red  and  green 
labels  peeped  at  him  festively  from  their  places. 

"She  shall  not  forget  it's  Christmas,"  he  said, 
smiling ;  and  drew  from  the  farthest  niche  where 
the  treasure  of  treasures  was  stored,  two  or  three 
bottles  covered  with  dust  and  cobwebs.  In  these 
reposed  a  nectar  which  had  not  seen  the  light  since 
an  eighteenth-century  sun  had  shone  on  it. 

His  latest  resolution  occurred  to  him.  Of  course, 
he  had  not  meant  to  put  it  into  force  till  to-morrow 
— not  on  Christmas  evening,  when  people  consort 
together,  who  at  other  times  are  not  congenial  to 
each  other.  On  Christmas  evening  no  one  ought 
to  be  lonely  and  sorrowful. 

Obedient  to  Regina's  wishes,  he  patrolled  the 
ruins  for  half-an-hour  beneath  a  roof  of  sparkling 
icicles.  Then  he  put  the  bottles  under  his  arm, 
and  staggered  out  into  the  stormy  night. 

As  he  approached  his  dwelling,  he  saw  with 
amazement  that  the  shutters  were  closed,  a  thing 
that  had  never  happened  before.  His  first  thought 
was  that  the  storm  had  penetrated  the  chinks,  but 
on  nearer  view  he  learnt  they  were  still  weather- 
proof. Not  till  he  stood  in  the  vestibule  did  he 


196     THE  SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

find  a  happy  solution  to  the  problem.  Regina  met 
him  beaming,  and  half-ashamed,  and  threw  the  par- 
lour door  wide  open.  Astounded  at  what  he  saw, 
he  remained  rooted  to  the  spot.  He  was  greeted 
by  a  festive  shimmer  of  candles  and  a  fragrant  odour 
of  firs.  In  the  centre  of  the  dining-table,  covered 
with  its  pure  white  cloth,  stood  a  Christmas  tree, 
adorned  with  wax  tapers  and  gilded  apples.  The 
whole  apartment  was  brilliantly  illuminated. 

Never  in  his  life  before  had  a  Christmas  tree 
been  lit  for  him.  Only  from  the  thresholds  of 
strangers  had  he  sometimes  looked  on  with  dim 
eyes  at  strangers'  happiness.  And  where  was 
Regina  ?  She  had  retreated  behind  him,  and 
stood  in  the  remotest  corner  of  the  vestibule, 
watching  him  with  shy  yet  proud  delight. 

He  took  hold  of  her  hand  and  led  her  into  the 
room. 

"  Who  put  it  into  your  head,  child  ?  "  he  asked. 

"The  grocer's  wife  was  trimming  her  Christmas 
tree  when  I  got  there  at  three  o'clock,  and  I  thought 
it  so  pretty  I  said  to  myself,  he  shall  have  his  tree 
too,  and  shall  know  that  there  is  at  least  one  person 
to  think  of  him.  I  asked  her  to  show  me  how  to 
gild  apples,  and  gilded  a  supply  while  I  was  there, 
and  bought  the  lights  and  got  a  sack  to  put  the 
tree  in,  so  that  you  shouldn't  see  it." 

"  And  who  gave  you  the  tree  ?  " 

"  I  cut  it  down  myself  at  the  edge  of  the  forest 
not  far  from  here." 

"  In  the  middle  of  this  storm  ?  " 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS      197 

She  laughed  contemptuously.  "A  little  wind 
wouldn't  hinder  me,  Herr."  And  then  with  a  sudden 
outburst  of  joyous  ecstasy,  she  exclaimed,  "Oh,  just 
look,  Herr,  how  beautifully  it  burns  !  How  pious  it 
looks.  Hasn't  it  really  a  sort  of  pious  face,  as  if  an 
angel  had  brought  it  ?  " 

He  assented,  laughing,  and  expressed  his  thanks 
in  a  few  words  of  forced  condescension,  for  he  was 
afraid  of  being  too  gracious. 

But  she  was  more  than  satisfied.  "Why  should 
you  thank  me,  Herr?"  she  asked  reproachfully. 
"  It's  all  bought  with  your  money.  I  have  none.  I'm 
only  a  poor  girl.  Else,  ah,  else — "  She  threw  up 
her  hands  and  clasped  them  above  her  head. 

The  cheque  came  into  his  mind.  "  This  is  to  show 
you,"  he  said,  handing  it  to  her,  "  that  I  have  thought 
of  your  Christmas  too." 

She  looked  at  him  in  bewilderment.  "Am  I  to 
read  it  ?  "  she  asked,  respectfully  taking  the  piece  of 
paper  between  two  of  her  fingers.  After  studying 
it  carefully,  she  still  looked  perplexed. 

"  Don't  you  understand  what  it  is  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh  yes — I  understand  .  .  .  But  to  begin  with, 
you  can't  be  in  earnest.  And  even  if  you  are,  .  .  . 
what  good  is  it  to  me  ?  " 

"  It  will  provide  for  your  future." 

"  My  future  is  provided  for.  ...  I  have  all  I  want. 
Good  food,  .  .  .  and  I  am  dressed  like  a  lady.  What 
can  I  possibly  want  besides  ?  " 

"But  we  may  not  go  on  living  always  together 
like  this." 


I98     THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS 

She  gave  a  cry  of  dismay.  "Are  you  thinking 
of  packing  me  off,  Herr  ? "  she  asked  with  tightly 
clasped  hands. 

"  Not  now.     But  suppose  I  were  to  die." 

She  shook  her  head  meditatively.  "  I  should  die 
too,"  she  said. 

"  Or  I  might  have  to  go  to  the  war  again  ?  " 

"  Then  I  should  go  with  you  as  a  vivandiere." 

Her  persistence  annoyed  him.  "  Do  as  you 
like,"  he  said,  "  only  take  what  I  give  you." 

A  bright  idea  seemed  to  occur  to  her. 

"All  right,  Herr"  she  exclaimed,  "I'll  take  it, 
only  next  Christmas  I  shall  buy  you  something  with 
it,  that  will  be  worth  having."  And  happy  at  the 
thought,  she  scampered  away. 

The  Christmas-tree  had  burnt  out.  It  stood  now 
dark  and  neglected  in  the  corner  by  the  stove,  only 
occasionally  casting  a  glimmer  from  its  golden  fruit 
on  the  table  where  master  and  servant  sat  opposite 
each  other. 

Regina  had  been  accorded  permission  to  take  her 
supper  with  him  this  evening,  and  had  been  too 
overcome  to  swallow  a  mouthful.  She  was  almost 
stunned  with  this  great  and  unexpected  pleasure. 

Now  the  dishes  were  cleared  away,  and  only 
bottles  and  glasses  stood  between  them.  She  drank, 
thoughtlessly,  of  the  old  fire-kindling  wine  in  long  im- 
moderate draughts.  Her  face  began  to  glow.  The 
pupils  of  her  brilliant  eyes  seemed  to  melt  beneath 
their  drooping  lids.  She  rocked  to  and  fro  on  her 
chair.  A  wild  abandon  had  relaxed  her  in  every  limb. 


THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS      199 

"Are  you  tired,  Regina  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head  impatiently.  For  once  her 
constraint  in  his  presence  had  disappeared.  There 
was  something  even  approaching  audacity  in  the 
brilliancy  of  her  glance  as  she  turned  it  on  him  from 
time  to  time.  She  was  intoxicated  with  happiness. 
He  too  felt  the  wine  flame  up  in  him ;  and  his  eyes 
were  riveted  on  her  figure,  which  swayed  before 
him  with  the  graceful  motions  of  a  Maenad. 

All  the  time  the  tempest  raged  outside.  It 
whistled  in  the  chimney  and  hurled  a  rattling  fusi- 
lade  against  the  window  shutters.  There  was  a 
grinding  and  crunching  among  the  rafters  of  the 
roof,  which  sounded  as  if  the  mouldy  wood  were 
collapsing. 

"  I  am  afraid  something  will  be  blown  down,"  he 
said  as  he  listened. 

"  Maybe,"  she  answered  with  a  dreamy  smile, 
huddling  herself  together.  And  then  she  began  to 
babble  in  a  fragmentary  but  quite  unrestrained 
fashion.  "Perhaps  it  isn't  good  for  me,  Herr," 
she  said,  "  that  you  are  so  kind  to  me.  All  my  life 
I  have  never  got  anything  but  blows  and  abuse — 
first  from  my  father,  then  from  him,  not  to  mention 
other  people.  But  if  you  spoil  me,  Herr,  I  shall 
get  proud — and  pride  is  a  great  vice,  I  have  heard 
the  Pastor  say — I  shall  begin  to  think  I'm  a  princess 
who  needn't  earn  her  bread." 

She  burst  into  a  peal  of  wild  laughter,  and  let  her 
arms  fall  to  her  sides.  Then  in  a  low  tone,  as  if 
conversing  with  herself,  she  went  on — 


200     THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS 

"  Sometimes  I  do  wonder  if  I  am  only  a  servant. 
I  often  feel  really  as  if  I  were  some  enchanted 
princess,  and  you,  Herr,  the  knight  who  is  to 
deliver  me.  Will  you  be  the  knight  ?  " 

She  blinked  at  him  over  her  wine-glass.  He 
nodded  in  friendly  acquiescence.  Let  her  revel  in 
her  strange  fancies.  It  was  Christmas. 

"  There  have  been  cases,"  she  continued,  "  in 
which  princesses  have  been  turned  into  quite  com- 
mon sluts.  They  have  had  stones  thrown  at  them, 
and  been  spat  at,  and  men  have  called  after  them, 
'  Strike  her  down,  the  dirty  slut ! '  And  all  the 
time  they  were  princesses  in  disguise." 

"  Do  you  believe  in  fairy  tales,  then  ?  "  he  asked, 
wondering. 

She  laughed  to  herself.  "Not  exactly,  Herr. 
But  when  one  passes  so  many  hours  alone,  and  has 
to  take  long  solitary  walks  as  I  have,  one  must 
think.  And  when  the  rain  beats  down,  and  the 
wind  blows.  .  .  .  Hark  at  it  now,  what  a  to-do  it's 
making.  .  .  .  Think  of  me  tramping  along  in  this 
— and  I  have  often  been  out  when  it's  as  bad,  but 
I've  never  lost  my  way.  And  sometimes,  when  I 
come  into  the  wood,  I  have  asked  myself,  'Which 
would  you  rather  be  ?  A  queen  sitting  on  a  golden 
throne,  or  the  Catholics'  Holy  Virgin,  who  had  our 
dear  Lord  and  Saviour  for  her  little  boy;  or  would 
you  rather  be  the  devil's  grandmother,  and  bury  all 
the  Schrandeners  in  a  manure-heap;  or  a  noble 
lady  and "  She  paused. 

"  And  ?  "  he  queried. 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS     201 

She  drew  herself  up,  and  laughed  in  embarrass- 
ment. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  that — it  is  too  silly.  But  I  had 
only  to  choose  which  I'd  be.  And  as  I  march  along 
through  the  night  shadows,  I  often  imagine  I  am 
one  or  other,  till  all  of  a  sudden  I  find  myself  in 
Bockeldorf,  just  as  if  I'd  flown  there — often  I  think 
I  am  flying.  Ah  !  things  do  happen  in  real  life, 
after  all,  very  much  the  same  as  in  the  fairy  tales. 
Don't  you  think  so,  Herr?" 

He  contemplated  her  with  curiosity  and  wonder, 
as  if  he  had  never  seen  her  before.  And  truly  it 
was  the  first  time  he  had  looked  into  her  secret 
soul.  Now,  when  her  tongue  was  loosened  by  wine, 
much  was  revealed  in  her  that  before  he  had  either 
not  observed  or  not  understood. 

"  Blissful  creature ! "  he  murmured. 

"  Am  I  ?  "  she  replied,  boldly  planting  her  elbows 
on  the  table,  and  regarding  him  with  an  expression 
of  joyous  inquiry.  "You  mean,  because  I'm  sitting 
here  with  you  drinking  wine  and  being  treated  as  if  I 
were  human  ?  Oh  !  it's  exactly  like  being  in  heaven. 
.  .  .  Do  you  think  I  shall  ever  go  to  heaven  ?  .  .  . 
I  don't.  I  am  far  too  wicked !  .  .  .  And  I  think, 
too,  I  should  be  afraid  to  go  there.  It  must  be 
much  livelier  in  hell.  ...  I  should  be  more  at 
home  there.  The  Herr  Pastor  often  said  I  was  like 
a  little  devil,  and  I  never  fretted  about  it.  Why 
should  I  ?  It  seemed  quite  natural  that  I  should 
be  the  little  devil  and  Helene  the  angel.  An  ex- 
cellent arrangement.  .  .  .  Didn't  Helene,  Herr,  look 


202     THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS 

just  like  an  angel  in  the  flesh  ?  So  pink  and  white 
and  delicate,  with  her  blue  eyes  and  folded  hands. 
And  she  always  wore  ...  a  pretty  ribbon  .  .  . 
round  her  neck  .  .  .  and  smelt  always  of  ...  rose- 
scented  soap.  .  .  ." 

A  cold  shiver  passed  through  him.  He  felt  it  was 
degrading  both  to  himself  and  the  beloved  to  allow 
this  half-tipsy  girl  to  speak  of  her  as  if  she  were  an 
equal. 

"  Stop !  "  he  demanded  hoarsely. 

She  only  answered  him  with  a  dreamy  smile. 
Wine  and  fatigue  suddenly  overpowered  her.  She 
lay  stretched  out,  her  head  thrown  back  on  the  arm 
of  the  chair,  and  fought  against  sleep,  like  a  Bacchante 
exhausted  after  a  whirl  of  dissipation. 

A  great  anger,  that  rose  and  fell  within  him  like 
the  sound  of  the  storm  outside,  mastered  him. 

"This  is  what  wine  does,"  he  thought,  and  yet 
drank  more. 

He  wanted  to  wake  her,  to  send  her  out,  but  he 
could  not  tear  his  eyes  away  from  her  face,  and  by 
degrees  he  became  gentler  again. 

"  She  meant  no  harm,"  he  thought,  as  he  moved 
nearer  to  where  she  lay.  "This  is  the  last  time 
she  will  sit  here  with  me;  to-morrow  a  new  leaf 
will  be  turned.  After  to-morrow  she  shall  find  in 
me  nothing  but  the  master." 

Then  he  remembered  all  he  had  wanted  to  ask  her. 

"  Well,  never  mind,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  it  can't 
be  helped.  Why  spoil  her  Christmas  ?  Some  other 
time  will  do." 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     203 

The  hurricane  without  seemed  to  have  increased 
in  fury.  It  roared  through  the  keyholes,  and  bat- 
tered the  shutters.  How  brutally  cruel  it  was  to 
drive  her  out  to  sleep  in  a  greenhouse  on  a  night 
like  this !  But  what  was  the  use  of  being  compas- 
sionate when  it  had  to  be  done  ? 

"  Regina ! "  he  shouted,  and  tapped  her  on  the 
shoulder.  At  that  moment  there  was  a  terrific 
thundering  crash,  that  made  the  walls  tremble  as 
from  a  shock  of  earthquake.  Regina  screamed  loud 
in  her  sleep  and  tried  to  grasp  his  hand,  then  sank 
back  again  into  her  old  position.  He  went  out  to 
see  what  was  the  cause  of  the  noise.  Nothing  had 
fallen  in  the  vestibule,  but  on  opening  the  door  of  the 
greenhouse  snow  drifted  in  his  face  just  as  if  he  had 
walked  into  the  open  air.  All  round  was  inky  dark- 
ness. He  went  back  to  fetch  his  lantern.  It  shed 
its  light  on  a  scene  of  ruin  that  exceeded  his  worst 
expectations.  Regina's  little  kingdom,  from  which 
she  had  ruled  and  regulated  the  menage  so  unosten- 
tatiously, had  seemingly  been  dispersed  to  the  four 
winds  of  heaven.  The  roof  was  blown  off,  and  had 
torn  up  part  of  the  wall  with  it.  Between  the  hearth 
and  the  door  was  a  barricade  of  snow  as  tall  as  him- 
self, riddled  with  bricks,  beams,  and  splinters  of  glass. 

What  was  to  be  done  now  ?  Where  was  Regina 
to  sleep  ?  Should  he  too  let  her  lie  like  a  dog  on 
his  threshold  ?  No  !  rather  would  he  turn  out  into 
the  ruins  himself,  and  seek  a  couch  down  in  the 
cellar.  It  was  imperative  to  act  at  once,  and  there 
was  only  one  thing  to  be  done.  He  drew  Regina's 


204     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

bedding  out  of  the  snow,  shook  it  thoroughly  till 
not  a  flake  remained  hanging  to  it,  and  then  dragged 
it  into  his  room.  Beneath  the  shadow  of  the 
Christmas-tree  in  the  corner  by  the  stove  he  made 
up  a  bed  on  the  boards. 

Regina  slept  peacefully,  her  face  illumined  by 
the  light  from  the  oil  lamp.  He  came  close  to  her, 
shook  and  called  her  by  name ;  but  nothing  could 
wake  her.  At  last  he  lifted  her  up,  to  carry  her 
to  the  bed. 

She  gave  a  deep  sigh,  encircled  his  neck  with 
her  arms,  and  let  her  head  sink  on  his  shoulder. 

His  heart  beat  faster.  The  fair  body  in  the 
first  bloom  of  its  superb  young  womanhood,  gave 
him  a  sensation  of  fear  and  uneasiness  as  it  un- 
consciously rested  on  him.  He  half  carried,  half 
trailed  her  across  the  room.  Her  warm  breath 
fanned  his  face,  her  hair  swept  his  throat. 

As  he  let  her  sink  on  her  mattress  she  raised  her 
arms,  with  a  gesture  of  longing,  in  the  air,  and 
pulled  down  the  little  fir-tree.  He  drew  it  from 
under  her,  and  then  placed  it  as  a  screen  and 
sentinel  between  himself  and  her.  "  To-morrow  I'll 
rig  up  a  partition,"  he  thought  Then  he  undressed 
and  went  to  bed. 

The  night-light  burnt  out,  but  there  was  no 
thought  of  sleep  for  him.  The  tempest  still  raged, 
and  spent  its  fury  on  the  locks  and  bolts.  Boleslav 
heeded  it  not.  While  he  listened  to  the  sleeping 
woman's  breath,  his  own  fell  on  the  night,  in  heavily- 
drawn,  anxious  gasps. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

"  To  His  Lordship,  Baron  Bokslav 

von  Schranden,  of  Castle  Schrandcn. 

11  Your  Hochwohlgeboren  is  requested  to  appear 
in  person  on  January  $rd,  annifuturi,  at  two  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  at  Herr  Merckel's  official  residence, 
and  to  bring  the  requisite  papers  relating  to  your 
Hochwohlgeboren' s  attachment,  or  non-attachment,  to 
the  Prussian  Landwehr. 

"  (Signed)     ROYAL  LANDRATH  V.  KROTKEIM, 

Representative  of  Military  Affairs 
fvr  the  District" 

Boleslav  found  this  communication  in  the  draw- 
bridge letter-box  on  New  Year's  morning.  The 
threatening  nature  of  its  contents  did  not  at  once 
strike  him  ;  he  was  only  staggered  at  the  authorities 
taking  the  trouble  to  investigate  his  case.  He  had 
resolved,  on  again  adopting  his  father's  name,  to 
let  the  waters  of  oblivion  close  over  Lieutenant 
Baumgart.  He  had  discharged  his  duty  to  his 
country  unconditionally ;  bolder  and  more  self- 
sacrificing  than  thousands  of  others,  he  had  gone 
to  face  death.  Now  that  there  was  peace,  and  he 
had  taken  a  great  burden  of  inherited  guilt  on  his 

90S 


206     THE  SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

shoulders,  he  had  wished  to  avoid  being  involved 
in  any  way  with  official  red-tapism. 

Only  gradually  did  he  realise  the  new  dangers 
that  were  gathering  on  his  horizon.  Pride  in  his 
past  as  a  soldier,  afforded  him  the  one  prop  and  stay 
in  his  present  ruined  life,  and  he  felt  that  slipping 
from  under  his  feet.  He  stood  defenceless  in  face 
of  imminent  peril.  It  would  need  only  a  little 
malice  prepense  to  make  him  out  a  deserter  from  the 
flag,  and  the  fact  of  his  having  borne  a  false  name 
would  go  far  to  establish  his  guilt. 

The  son  of  Baron  von  Schranden  had  no  reason 
to  hope  that  justice  would  be  tempered  with  mercy 
in  his  case.  He  would  also  have  no  reason  to 
complain  of  harsh  measures,  if  he  were  put  under 
arrest  on  the  spot,  and  brought  before  a  court- 
martial  of  the  standing  branch  of  his  regiment. 

For  a  moment  he  entertained  thoughts  of  flight, 
but  afterwards  thrust  the  idea  from  him  in  scorn. 
He  had  too  often  valued  his  life  cheaply,  to  now 
think  seriously  of  stealing  into  Poland  to  end  his 
wretched  career  in  safety. 

But  what  would  become  of  Regina  ? 

At  the  thought  of  her,  his  heart  smote  him.  She 
had  no  suspicion  of  the  new  troubles  with  which  he 
was  encompassed.  Since  Christmas  night  he  had 
not  addressed  a  single  word  to  her  that  was  not 
absolutely  necessary,  and  even  then  his  voice  had 
been  imperious  and  severe.  The  thought  of  her  now 
seemed  interwoven  with  a  presentiment  of  coming 
calamity,  which  oppressed  him  like  a  nightmare. 


THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS     207 

At  night  he  tossed  about  restlessly  among  his 
pillows.  She  never  stirred  in  her  corner.  Appar- 
ently she  fell  asleep  the  moment  she  lay  down. 
But  her  soft,  quick,  regular  breathing  was  sometimes 
broken  by  a  sigh.  Perhaps,  after  all,  she  was  not 
sleeping,  but  watching,  listening,  as  he  listened.  .  .  . 

And  then  the  day  dawned  on  which  Boleslav's 
fate  was  to  be  decided.  Towards  morning  he  had 
fallen  into  an  uneasy  sleep,  and  was  first  awakened 
by  the  smoke  that  poured  into  the  room  from  the 
vestibule,  where  he  had  erected  a  temporary  fire- 
place, which  would  have  to  do  as  a  makeshift  till 
milder  weather  made  the  repairing  of  the  glass  root 
practicable.  It  was  a  clear,  frosty  morning.  The 
sunshine  jewelled  the  hoar-frost  on  the  twigs,  and 
dark  purple  shadows  crept  along  the  dazzling  sheets 
of  snow. 

He  spent  the  morning  in  arranging  his  papers. 
All  that  was  compromising  to  his  father's  memory 
should  be  destroyed,  for  were  he  put  under  arrest, 
as  seemed  likely,  strangers'  hands  would  meddle  in 
this  vortex.  He  held  the  sorted  letters  in  his  hand 
ready  to  burn  in  the  stove,  when  he  thought  better 
of  it.  If  he  really  were  serious  in  his  intentions  of 
bearing  his  father's  guilt,  he  ought  to  conceal  or 
destroy  nothing  in  order  to  lighten  the  burden.  It 
was  not  worth  while  purchasing  truth  with  falsehood. 
Rather  die  in  disgrace,  than  live  in  honour  founded 
on  lies  and  deceit. 

When  Regina  brought  him  his  midday  meal  he 
vacillated  an  instant,  as  to  whether  he  should  tell 


208     THE   SINS    OF  THE    FATHERS 

her  all  or  nothing.  But  he  shrank  from  a  touching 
scene,  and  decided  on  the  latter  course.  A  letter 
would  serve  the  same  purpose.  So  he  wrote :  "  If  I 
am  not  back  at  dusk,  probably  you  will  have  difficulty 
in  seeing  me  again.  Inquire  at  the  Landrath's 
office  in  Wartenstein.  There  they  will  tell  you  what 
has  become  of  me.  I  advise  you  to  leave  Schranden 
at  once.  The  draft  I  gave  you  will  supply  your 
wants.  What  else  remains  shall  all  be  yours  later. 
Good-bye,  and  accept  my  thanks." 

He  left  the  note  in  a  conspicuous  place,  so  that, 
when  she  cleared  away,  she  would  find  it.  He  was 
in  a  hard  and  embittered  mood,  and  in  no  humour 
for  a  sentimental  farewell. 

But  as  he  passed  Regina  in  the  vestibule  where 
she  was  occupied  with  the  fire,  he  felt  a  strong 
impulse  to  press  her  hand.  For  her  sake,  as  much 
as  for  his  own,  he  went  out  without  giving  her  a 
word  or  a  look.  A  group  of  staring  louts,  who 
appeared  to  be  waiting  for  him,  were  loafing  near 
the  drawbridge.  When  they  saw  him  coming,  they 
ran  off  helter-skelter  with  loud  exclamations,  to 
the  inn. 

"  My  heralds,"  he  said,  and  laughed. 

Long  before  the  stated  hour  the  parlour  of  the 
Black  Eagle  could  not  hold  all  the  customers  that 
poured  in,  anxious  to  secure  a  foremost  place  for  the 
proceedings.  There  was  an  overflow  that  extended 
as  far  as  the  churchyard  square.  Every  one  was 
eager  to  witness  with  his  own  eyes  the  final  degrada- 
tion of  the  last  of  the  Barons  of  Schranden. 


THE   SINS  OF  THE   FATHERS      209 

Three  months  had  passed  since  the  petition  had 
been  sent  to  the  judicial  authorities  of  the  province, 
and  even  the  most  zealous  patriots  had  begun  to 
despair  of  its  producing  any  results.  Then  at  last 
had  come  the  delightful  intimation  from  the  office 
of  the  Landrath,  that  a  day  had  been  appointed  to 
wind  up  the  case  of  the  Crown  v.  Schranden,  alias 
Baumgart,  and  the  presence  of  the  petitioners  was 
urgently  requested  at  the  inquiry. 

The  Schrandeners  had  armed  themselves  in  a 
way  worthy  of  the  occasion.  For  three  days  they 
had  been  busy  polishing  up  their  accoutrements. 
Those  among  the  disbanded  Landwehr-men  who  still 
possessed  their  Litewka  had  donned  it,  and  pikes 
and  sabres  were  seen  in  the  crowd.  Possibly  they 
might  be  called  upon  to  help  in  an  instantaneous 
administration  of  justice. 

The  Landrath's  sleigh  had  entered  the  village  at 
one  o'clock,  and,  as  was  customary,  put  up  at  the 
parsonage  stable,  where  Herr  Merckel  and  his 
son  stood  ready  to  welcome  the  high  functionary. 
There  was  no  gendarme  on  the  box,  which  greatly 
mystified  the  Schrandeners.  But  perhaps  the  ser- 
vices of  one  were  not  required  when  they  could  be 
depended  on  to  despatch  the  criminal  at  the  first 
signal. 

Shortly  before  two,  the  Landrath,  accompanied 
by  the  old  pastor,  left  the  parsonage  and  entered 
the  inn  by  a  side  door,  where  Herr  Merckel,  senior, 
again  was  to  the  fore  to  receive  him,  while  Felix 
slouched  in  the  background,  piqued  at  not  being 

O 


210     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

treated  with  what  he  considered  sufficient  respect 
by  the  civilian. 

The  Landrath  von  Krotkeim  was  a  tall,  extremely 
slender  man,  whose  hoary  leonine  head  rose  with 
great  effect  from  his  contracted,  sloping  shoulders. 
There  was  something  awe-inspiring  in  its  pose. 
He  wore,  in  defiance  of  the  fashion  of  the  period, 
long  whiskers,  which  flowed  behind  his  ears, 
mingling  with  his  thick  iron-grey  mane. 

His  part  in  the  formation  of  defences  for  the 
Fatherland  had  been  an  important  and  distinguished 
one.  Two  years  before  he  had  sat  as  a  deputy  for 
the  knighthood  in  the  famous  Land-tag  to  which 
Germany  owed  the  foundation  of  the  Landwehr.  He 
had  hailed  old  York  with  cheers,  and  helped  to 
draw  up  the  address  to  the  King.  Afterwards  he 
had  hastened  back  to  his  native  place  to  set  the 
organisation  on  foot,  and  had  achieved  results  which 
made  his  district  the  brilliant  model  that  excited 
the  admiring  emulation  of  the  whole  country.  Then 
arose  those  marauders  attendant  on  success,  vanity 
and  egoism.  What  at  first  had  been  a  labour  of 
noble  disinterestedness,  gradually  degenerated  into  a 
peg  for  self-advertisement  and  a  means  of  memorial- 
ising his  own  fame.  For  the  rest,  and  long  before 
the  treachery  of  the  Cats'  Bridge  incident  had  been 
generally  made  known  to  the  world,  Herr  von 
Krotkeim  had  by  repute  been  a  bitter  enemy  of 
the  house  of  Schranden.  To  hope  any  favour  at 
his  hands  would  therefore  be  over-sanguine  indeed. 
Rut  Boleslav  had  abandoned  hope  of  any  kind  as 


THE   SINS    OF  THE    FATHERS     211 

he  entered  the  square  in  front  of  the  church.  He 
advanced  composed,  and  almost  indifferent,  towards 
the  crowd  that  formed  a  cordon  round  the  inn. 
He  had,  on  his  way,  cast  one  shy  glance  at  the 
parsonage,  where  in  a  window  he  fancied  he  had 
seen  a  fair  face  which  withdrew  into  shadow  directly 
he  smiled  up  at  it.  He  was  received  by  a  murmur 
of  malignant  tongues,  but  the  cordon  let  him  through, 
understanding  enough  to  know  that,  without  him, 
the  game  they  were  anticipating  with  such  keen 
relish  could  not  be  played. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  best  parlour,  he  stood  face 
to  face  with  the  great  man  with  the  lion's  mane, 
on  either  side  of  whom  sat  the  old  pastor  and 
Herr  Merckel.  Felix  lounged  in  the  window-sill, 
trying  to  assume  an  air  of  nonchalance.  He  now 
considered  his  former  playmate  too  inferior  an 
object  on  which  even  to  bestow  his  hate.  But  the 
old  landlord  greeted  Boleslav  with  a  benign  smile. 
Had  he  come  there  with  the  purpose  of  treating 
every  one  present  to  a  bottle  of  the  celebrated 
Muscat  wine,  the  smile  could  not  have  been  more 
smugly  servile. 

Lightning-flashes  irradiated  from  beneath  the  pro- 
minent brows  of  the  old  pastor,  and  the  Landrath 
sat  coolly  contemplating  his  fingers,  which  were 
white  and  bony  as  a  skeleton's.  Boleslav  felt  his 
bosom  swell  proudly.  "  His  hand  against  every 
man ;  every  man's  hand  against  him."  It  was  the 
old  story! 

A  voice   from   the  crowd  hiccoughed  out   some 


212     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

unflattering  remark.  The  Schrandeners  received 
it  with  laughter. 

"It's  the  poor  father,  the  unhappy  father,"  old 
Merckel  whispered  to  the  Landrath,  with  a  melan- 
choly elevation  of  his  eyebrows. 

"As  you  have  summoned  me  here,"  exclaimed 
Boleslav,  "I  demand  your  protection  from  the  in- 
sults of  the  mob ! " 

The  Landrath  drooped  his  eyelids  and  bowed. 

"  Silence,  dear  people ! "  he  commanded,  stroking 
his  clean-shaven  chin,  and  then  he  added,  "  I  shall 
have  any  person  who  makes  a  disturbance  ejected." 

He  consulted  a  green  portfolio  that  lay  spread 
before  him  on  the  table.  Behind  him  a  little  man  in 
grey  was  energetically  trying  goose  quills.  Probably 
he  was  the  reporter. 

The  examination  began.  With  frigid  politeness 
the  Landrath  put  the  usual  questions. 

"  Where  have  you  resided  hitherto  ?  " 

Boleslav  enumerated  several  places. 

"Your  word  is  of  course  to  be  trusted,  Herr 
Baron,  but  have  you  proofs  ?  " 

"No." 

"  Up  to  what  date  does  your  answer  hold  good  ?  " 

"Till  the  spring  of  the  year  '13." 

"After  that?" 

"I  entered  the  army." 

"  Have  you  proofs  to  support  that  statement  ?  " 

"No." 

"  I  regret  to  say  that  the  name  von  Schranden  is 
not  to  be  found  in  the  army  list." 


THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS      213 

"  I  enlisted  under  another." 

"  Under  the  name  of  Baumgart  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  For  what  reason  ?  " 

There  was  silence.     Boleslav  bit  his  lips. 

"  Ha,  ha  ! "  came  triumphantly  from  the  window. 
The  exclamation  put  Boleslav  on  his  mettle. 

"To  have  borne  my  real  name  would  have 
involved  me  in  difficulties." 

"Why?" 

"  Because,  through  a  rumour  which  I  was  power- 
less to  contradict,  there  was  a  blot  on  that 
name," 

"  What  rumour  ?  " 

It  was  clear  this  man  intended  to  humiliate  him 
to  the  dust  before  passing  on  him  the  inevitable 
sentence. 

"  You  know  it,"  he  murmured  faintly  between  his 
closed  teeth. 

The  Landrath  bowed.  "Nevertheless  I  must 
ask  for  information  on  the  subject." 

"  I  decline  to  give  it." 

The  mob  sent  up  a  shout  of  scornful  laughter. 

"  Do  for  him  at  once  !  put  him  in  chains ! "  roared 
the  same  hiccoughing  voice  that  had  made  use  of  an 
abusive  epithet  earlier  in  the  proceedings. 

The  Landrath  gracefully  waved  his  long  white 
hands. 

"A  note  has  been  made  of  that  refusal?"  he 
asked  without  turning  round. 

A  small  quavering  pipe  behind  him,  which  greatly 


214     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

amused  the  Schrandeners,  answered  in  the  affir- 
mative. 

Then  he  continued  with  imperturbable  politeness. 

"  May  I  ask  you,  then,  to  tell  me  to  which  com- 
pany you  were  attached  ?  " 

Boleslav  did  so,  and  also  gave  the  names  of  his 
Heide  comrades. 

The  Landrath  turned  over  the  leaves  of  his  port- 
folio with  an  air  of  ennui.  The  concerns  of  the 
volunteer  Jagers  evidently  had  no  interest  for  him. 

"  You  were  elected  officer  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"I  do  not  doubt  your  word,  Herr  Baron,  but 
have  you  proofs  to  back  this  statement  ?  " 

"No." 

"A  note  must  be  made  of  that  negative.  And 
then  you  entered  the  Landwehr  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Your  reason  ?  " 

Boleslav  indicated,  with  a  motion  of  his  head,  the 
companion  of  his  boyhood.  "  Because  I  did  not 
wish  to  meet  that  man." 

Felix  gave  a  scoffing  laugh,  and  exclaimed,  "  Else 

\he  swindle  would "  A  sign  from  the  Landrath 

silenced  him. 

"  Your  Landwehr  regiment,  if  you  please  ?  " 

Boleslav  cited  the  commandant's  name. 

The  Landrath  bowed  low  over  the  portfolio  till 
his  shock  of  hair  almost  concealed  his  faded  shrunken 
face. 

"  So  far  that  coincides  with  my  information,"  he 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     215 

said,  and  then  read  :  "  There  was  a  Lieutenant 
Baumgart,  who  at  the  time  of  the  armistice  entered 
the  regiment.  Besides  him  there  were  four  other 
officers  of  this  name  in  the  army.  The  one  in 
question,  however,  met  his  death  between  the  1st 
and  3rd  of  March  on  the  Marne." 

"  How  did  you  learn  that,  Herr  Landrath  ?  " 

"  It  is  in  the  Gazette,  Herr  Baron.  He  is  said  to 
have  been  sent  on  a  special  mission,  and  shot  by 
grenadiers  in  General  Marmont's  corps." 

Boleslav  felt  his  blood  mount  swiftly  to  his  brow. 
The  proudest  and  most  arduous  moments  of  his  life 
rose  vividly  before  him.  "That  is  a  mistake,"  he 
cried  ;  "  Lieutenant  Baumgart  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  enemy  severely  wounded,  but  escaped  with  his 
life." 

"  And  it  is  your  desire  to  be  identified  with  that 
fallen  emissary  ?  " 

"  I  believe  I  have  clearly  shown  that  it  is  my 
desire." 

"  Very  well,  that  being  so,  you  will  of  course  be 
able  to  relate  the  incidents  of  the  special  mission." 

"  Certainly." 

"  Please  proceed." 

"  The  volunteers  had  been  charged  to  get  a  mes- 
sage delivered  to  General  von  Kleist.  Some  days 
before  a  skirmish  had  taken  place  on  the  banks  of 
a  river,  Therouanne  by  name,  through  which  the 
General  and  his  corps  were  cut  off  from  communica- 
tion with  the  main  army.  A  reunion  was  not  to 
be  effected  owing  to  Marmont's  and  Mortier's  troops, 


216     THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

to  which  Napoleon  himself  was  said  to  be  marching, 
stopping  the  way.  Field-Marshal  Bliicher  suddenly 
resolved  to  retreat,  in  order,  I  believe,  to  pick  up 
reinforcements,  and  therefore  it  was,  under  the 
circumstances,  urgent  to  let  General  von  Kleist 
know  at  once,  in  case  he  should  find  himself  entirely 
isolated.  It  was  necessary  for  the  messenger  to 
evade  the  enemy's  outposts  at  night-time.  Among 
those  who  volunteered  to  go  on  the  mission,  choice 
fell  on  me.  Major  von  Schaek  led  me  to  the  Field- 
Marshal,  who  entrusted  me  with  a  letter " 

"  One  moment,  please,"  interrupted  the  Landrath, 
searching  diligently  among  his  papers ;  then  he  added 
casually,  "And  the  letter  of  course  contained  the 
necessary  command." 

"No." 

"What,  then?" 

"The  letter  was  designed  to  deceive  the  enemy 
in  case  I  should  be  shot  from  my  horse  on  the  way. 
The  Field-Marshal  desired  me  to  give  his  command 
by  word  of  mouth.  I  had  to  learn  it  by  heart" 

"  How  did  it  run  ?  " 

"  As  follows :  '  If  on  the  morrow  the  enemy  at- 
tacks us  on  the  right  flank,  General  von  Kleist  is 
not  to  join  in  the  engagement,  but  to  seize  the  op- 
portunity of  gaining  the  command  of  the  Marne  from 
the  south,  so  that  he  may  bring  himself  in  touch  with 
me.  En  route  several  bridges  are  to  be  destroyed.' " 

The  Landrath  nodded.  "And  then  —  Lieu- 
tenant ?  " 

"  I  succeeded  in  delivering  the  message." 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     217 

"  You  managed  to  evade  the  enemy  and  reach 
your  goal  ?  " 

"  I  hope  you  have  found  proofs  of  it,  Herr 
Landrath,  in  the  history  of  the  war " 

"  Hum  !     When  were  you  wounded  ?  " 

"  On  the  way  back." 

"  Why  did  you  not  remain  where  you  were  ?  " 

"Because  I  had  undertaken  to  bring  the  Field- 
Marshal  an  answer." 

"  You  might  have  spared  yourself  this  second  act 
of  daring." 

"  I  might  have  spared  myself  the  first  also." 

"  You  wanted  to  achieve  fame  ?  " 

"  I  wanted  among  other  things  to  escape  the 
privilege  of  this  cross-examination." 

The  Landrath  straightened  himself  and  threw 
back  his  mane.  "  Permit  me  to  draw  your  attention 
to  the  fact  that  you  stand  before  the  representative 
of  your  king,  Herr  Baron  von  Schranden." 

"  Barefaced  impudence ! "  muttered  the  voice  at 
the  window. 

"I  stand  before  my  undoer,"  replied  Boleslav, 
looking  steadily  into  the  Landrath's  eyes. 

He  fixed  them  on  his  papers  again,  with  a  sup- 
pressed smile.  "  I  have  now  come  to  the  last  stage  of 
my  investigation,"  he  continued.  "  It  cannot  be  denied 
that  your  statements  bear  a  strong  resemblance  to  the 
facts,  and  that  your  claim  to  be  one  and  the  same 
person  as  the  Lieutenant  Baumgart  who  served  in 
the  Silesian  Landwehr  under  Major  von  Wolzogen 
has  gained  in  probability.  Only  this  admission  has 


218     THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

to  be  weighed  in  the  scale  against  the  impossibility 
of  an  honourable  officer,  as  the  said  Baumgart  seems 
to  have  been,  turning  his  back  on  the  army  in  which 
he  had  won  honours  and  wounds,  and  deserting  its 
standard.  He  must  have  known  a  company  of 
soldiers  could  not  be  dispersed  like  a  flock  of 
sparrows.  And  to  think  that  the  Landwehr " — his 
chest  swelled  and  he  tossed  his  mane, — "  the  glorious 
Landwehr,  that  has  always  stood  in  the  first  rank 
for  courage,  love  of  order,  and  discipline,  should  have 
thus  been  hoodwinked  !  Freiherr  von  Schranden, 
I  fervently  hope  that  Lieutenant  Baumgart  was  not 
guilty  of  this  transgression,  and  am  therefore  bound 
to  wish  that  he  met  his  death." 

Boleslav  felt  the  crisis  was  approaching.  He 
glanced  round  him  and  saw  everywhere  eyes  flam- 
ing with  hate  and  thirst  for  vengeance.  Felix 
Merckel  had  laid  his  hand  on  the  handle  of  his 
sabre,  as  if  in  another  moment  he  would  raise 
it.  From  the  throngs  behind  him  came  a  clash 
and  din  of  arms.  Malignant  satisfaction  beamed 
on  the  face  of  the  old  host  of  the  Black  Eagle. 
Only  the  pastor  sat  with  his  dishevelled  head 
bowed  in  his  hands,  staring  despondently  on  the 
floor. 

"  It  is  not  my  fault,  Herr  Landrath,  that  the 
dead  man  has  been  brought  to  life.  He  did  his 
duty,  I  think.  Why  should  he  not  have  been 
allowed  to  rest  in  peace  ?  " 

The  Landrath  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"A  public  indictment  cannot  be  ignored." 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     219 

"  An  indictment ! "  cried  Boleslav,  his  anger 
blazing  up,  and  his  eye  met  young  MerckeFs. 

There  he  read,  in  unmistakable  characters,  the 
story  of  the  shameless  plot  against  him.  He  smiled 
in  disgust. 

"  I  see  that  I  am  answerable  to  a  military  tri- 
bunal," he  said.  "I  was  prepared  for  it.  I  beg 
you  now  to  arrest  me." 

The  mob  pushed  forward  as  if  anxious  to  take 
him  at  his  word  without  delay.  Boleslav,  who  all 
this  time  had  been  standing  on  the  threshold  of 
the  inner  parlour,  was  hurled  forward  against  the 
table,  within  a  hair's-breadth  of  the  Landrath,  while 
the  fists  of  his  enemies  touched  his  neck  from 
behind. 

"Patience,  my  dear  friends,"  said  the  Landrath 
in  an  amicable  tone.  "The  first  who  lays  hands 
on  him  will  himself  be  put  in  chains.  One  more 
question,  Herr  Baron.  If  you  were  taken  prisoner, 
as  you  maintain,  how  was  it  that  later,  when  the 
disbanding  followed,  you  were  not  registered  and 
discharged  in  the  regular  order  ?  " 

"  The  French,  in  their  hurried  flight,  left  me  lying 
on  the  field,  as  I  was  badly  wounded.  I  was  picked 
up  by  some  peasants,  in  whose  house  I  lay  for 
months  at  death's  door.  When  I  was  able  to 
leave  my  rescuers,  peace  had  been  concluded,  and 
there  were  no  allies  in  the  neighbourhood." 

"  Your  word  of  honour  is  of  course  sacred,  Herr 
Baron,  but  perhaps  you  can  substantiate  this  with 
proof?" 


220     THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

"  Only  with  my  scars,  Herr  Landrath? 

"Ah  !  ...  Make  a  note  of  that "  He  pushed 

back  his  leonine  locks  from  his  brow,  and  seemed 
to  be  bracing  himself  for  an  impressive  summing 
up— 

"  My  friends !  Indomitable  defenders  of  your 
country,  and  inhabitants  of  Schranden  !  The  found- 
ing of  the  Landwehr  was  the  rising  of  a  new  sun, 
which  has  never  ceased  to  cast  new  lustre  on  the 
fame  of  Prussia.  Let  us  congratulate  ourselves  that 
we  have  been  born  in  a  time  when  such  great  things 
have  been  demanded  of  us,  and  that  we  have  proved 
ourselves  worthy  of,  and  equal  to  the  demand. 
Especially  in  this  district,  and  foremost  in  this  dis- 
trict the  parish  of  Schranden.  If  we  look  round  us, 
we  see  a  very  different  spectacle  in  other  quarters. 
Not  everywhere  did  the  King's  appeal  meet  with 
such  a  warm  and  spontaneous  echo. 

"  Oh,  my  friends,  our  hearts  bleed  when  we  hear 
of  how,  in  the  districts  of  Konitz  and  Stargard,  for 
example,  to  escape  serving,  men  took  refuge  in  the 
woods,  and  lay  full-length  amongst  the  wheat  till 
they  had  to  be  baited  like  bulls.  Thousands  took 
flight  across  the  frontier,  and  thus  shirked  the  con- 
scription altogether.  And  often  what  had  been 
beautifully  drilled  companies  overnight,  by  the 
morning  were  transformed  into  a  shapeless  mass  of 
panic-stricken  deserters.  But  not  in  the  district 
that  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  mobilising. 

"  In  less  than  two  weeks,  friends  and  comrades, 
the  Landwehr  of  the  Wartenstein  district  was 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     221 

ready  drilled  and  armed  from  top  to  toe.  The  levies 
were  double  in  strength  what  the  government  had 
required  of  us,  and  eighty  per  cent,  consisted  of 
volunteers.  From  the  parish  of  Schranden  came 
only  volunteers." 

The  crowd  set  up  loud  hurrahs,  and  the  pastor 
nodded  and  smiled  in  grim  satisfaction.  He  knew 
whose  work  that  had  been. 

"  I  must  admit,"  continued  the  Landrath,  with  a 
chilling  sidelong  glance  at  Boleslav,  "that  the  parish 
of  Schranden  has  one  hideous  stain  on  its  reputa- 
tion " — (several  loud  imprecations  were  audible) — 
"  a  stain  which  in  spite  of  all  its  deeds  of  bravery 
will  never  be  dissociated  from  it "  (renewed  curses) ; 
"  but  if  it  is  the  King's  pleasure  to  overlook  it,  and 
only  to  see  the  brighter  side,  his  graciousness  is 
due  to  those  who,  in  defending  his  realm,  have 
rendered  him  such  able  services,  whose  leader  I 
am  happy  and  proud  to  call  myself.  The  King's 
favour — ("Why  does  he  harp  thus  on  the  King's 
favour,"  thought  Boleslav,  "  when  he  might  wind  up 
the  case  and  be  done  with  it ") — "  has  been  abund- 
antly lavished  on  us,  and  we  are  almost  overpowered 
with  his  blessings.  Yet  let  all  who  reap  the  fruits 
of  the  harvest  remember  they  owe  it  to  the  men  of 
the  Landwehr,  and  not  least  to  their  organiser,  who 
sowed  for  them  the  seeds  of  undying  fame." 

Again  he  began  to  turn  over  the  leaves  of 
his  portfolio,  then  he  went  on :  "  Take  your  caps 
off,  intrepid  inhabitants  of  Schranden.  Attention, 
my  brave  men !  Gentlemen,  if  you  please,  rise  I 


222     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

Whoever  keeps  his  cap  on  at  the  back  there 
will  be  ejected.  I  am  commissioned  to  read  over 
to  you  an  order  of  the  Cabinet  of  supreme  im- 
port. It  is  as  follows:  'Should  it  prove  true  that 
the  Freiherr  von  Schranden  of  Schloss  Schranden 
and  Lieutenant  Baumgart  of  the  i$th  Regiment  of 
the  Silesian  Landwehr,  be  one  and  the  same  per- 
son, and  that,  as  was  naturally  supposed  of  so 
fearless  an  officer,  he  had  no  real  intentions  of 
deserting,  I  appoint  him  to  a  captaincy  in  my 
Landwehr,  and  entrust  him  with  the  command  of 
the  company  in  his  division.  I  also  bestow  on 
him,  in  recognition  of  his  extraordinary  valour  and 
distinguished  service,  the  iron  cross  of  the  first 
class.  The  Landrath  for  the  district  shall  invest 
him  with  these  honours  in  the  presence  of  his 
accusers.— FRIEDRICH  WILHELM  REX.'" 

The  proclamation  was  received  in  profound 
silence.  The  patriotic  Schrandeners  stood  glower- 
ing at  each  other  in  consternation.  Felix  Merckel 
had  sunk  back  on  the  window-seat.  His  fingers 
clutched  convulsively  at  the  cross  that  shone  be- 
tween the  black  froggings  on  his  coat.  Boleslav 
felt  a  buzzing  sensation  in  his  head.  He  was 
obliged  to  cling  to  the  door  for  support,  for  he 
feared  he  might  swoon.  Not  joy,  only  infinite 
bitterness,  welled  up  within  him.  He  bit  his  lips 
hard  to  keep  back  his  tears. 

The  Landrath  drew  a  small  black  case  fron,  the 
depths  of  his  coat  pocket,  and  presented  it  to  Boleslav 
with  an  exaggeratedly  obsequious  bow.  The  cover 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     223 

sprang  back.  The  black  smoothly  polished  scrap 
of  iron,  on  its  background  of  blue  velvet,  seemed 
surrounded  by  a  halo  of  shimmering  light.  Boleslav 
grasped  it  with  one  hand  in  growing  excitement, 
while  he  offered  his  other  to  the  Landrath.  The 
latter  retreated  a  step  or  two,  closely  regarding 
his  long,  white,  skinny  hands,  as  if  the  act  of 
handing  over  the  case  had  done  them  some  injury. 
Then  he  deliberately  hid  them  behind  his  back. 

"  Herr  Landrath,  I  offered  you  my  hand,"  cried 
Boleslav  threateningly,  .flushing  darkly  at  this  new 
insult. 

"According  to  his  Majesty's  wishes  I  have  dis- 
charged my  duty.  My  instructions  did  not  include 
a  shake  of  the  hand." 

At  this  moment  a  cross,  like  the  one  Boleslav  had 
just  received,  flew  through  the  air  and  alighted  at 
his  feet  Felix  Merckel  had  torn  it  from  his  breast 
Swelling  with  righteous  indignation,  he  swaggered 
up  to  the  official,  whom  he  now  felt  sure  he  had 
no  reason  to  be  afraid  of,  and  cried — 

"There  it  may  lie.  I  don't  want  it  now.  Any 
decent  soldier  would  be  ashamed  to  wear  it  when 
such  as  he  is  decorated  with  it." 

A  cry  of  mingled  pain  and  fury  escaped  Boleslav's 
lips,  and  with  raised  fists  he  turned  fiercely  on  his 
enemy. 

Felix  Merckel  unsheathed  his  sabre,  as  if  with 
the  intention  of  hewing  down  the  unarmed  man. 
But  the  old  landlord  threw  his  corpulent  form  be- 
tween them.  The  Landrath  confined  himself  to 


224     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

waving  his  hands  soothingly ;  and  the  pastor  vigi- 
lantly kept  watch  on  his  Schrandeners.  He  knew 
his  flock,  and  read  murder  in  their  glance. 

"Back  there!  keep  back!"  he  shouted  to  the 
tumultuous  throng  in  a  voice  of  brass.  With  out- 
stretched arms  he  sprang  into  the  doorway,  where 
already  a  line  of  pikes  appeared,  ready  to  fell  the 
victim  from  behind. 

Boleslav  looked  round  and  saw  with  a  shudder 
how  near  he  stood  to  death. 

The  pastor,  clinging  to  the  roof  of  the  doorway, 
endeavoured  to  stem  the  murderous  tide.  Would 
that  frail  and  venerable  frame  be  able  to  repulse  this 
onslaught  of  unmuzzled  wolves  ?  Would  it  not  be 
swept  away  on  the  crest  of  this  bloodthirsty  wave  ? 
A  weak  shield  to  rely  on,  indeed !  Yet  his  was  the 
only  authority  not  swamped  by  the  tumult.  The 
Landrath's  protesting  hands  waved  impotently  above 
the  seething  heads,  like  limp  towels ;  the  gentle  flute- 
like  tones  in  which  he  declared  the  ringleaders  of 
the  disturbance  should  be  turned  out  and  bludgeoned 
were  totally  ignored.  His  parasite,  the  little  port- 
folio bearer,  had  taken  the  precaution  to  creep  under 
the  table. 

A  voice  within  Boleslav  cried,  "  What !  You  will 
let  this  old  man  protect  you?  Cannot  you  pro- 
tect yourself  ?  "  And  a  wild  resolve  consumed  him. 
This  seemed  a  moment  given  him  to  balance  his 
account  with  fate — a  moment  of  all  others  in  which 
cowardice  was  to  be  avoided.  He  caught  hold  of 
the  old  pastor  in  a  grip  of  iron  and  drew  him  aside. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     225 

"This  is  my  place,  reverend  sir,"  he  said,  and 
planted  himself  in  the  doorway. 

He  stretched  out  his  arms  above  him,  as  the  old 
man  had  done,  and  offered  his  breast  as  a  target 
for  the  pointed  weapons.  His  eye  penetrated  un- 
flinchingly into  the  heart  of  the  struggling  and 
ramping  mob  before  him.  He  felt  the  foam  from 
their  mouths  bespatter  him,  and  their  hot,  foul 
breath  fan  his  face. 

"Here  I  stand!"  he  cried.  "I  have  left  my 
pistols  at  home ;  so  you  can  make  short  work  of 
me.  Any  of  you  who  have  the  courage." 

But  no  one  had  the  courage,  for  his  back  was  not 
turned  to  them  now.  Sabres  were  lowered,  pikes 
dropped. 

"I  see — you  don't  wish  to  assassinate  me  after  all," 
he  said,  holding  them  with  his  eyes.  "  You  are  going 
to  behave  yourselves  like  men,  and  not  like  wild 
beasts.  Very  well,  then,  I  will  speak  to  you  as  to 
reasonable  men.  Move  backwards  and  keep  quiet." 

The  crowd  wavered;  the  next  moment  he  had 
the  threshold  to  himself. 

"  And  now — speak  !  Tell  me  what  you  want 
with  me  ?  " 

There  was  no  answer,  no  sound  in  the  room 
except  the  laboured  breathing  of  excited  lungs. 

"  You  hate  me.  You  would  like  to  take  my  life. 
Tell  me  why  ?  Here  in  the  presence  of  a  representa- 
tive of  the  King  whom  we  all  serve  and  fear,  in  the 
presence  of  a  representative  of  the  God  in  whom  I 
believe  and  you  too — tell  me  what  I  have  done  ? 

P 


226     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

I  submit  myself  to  their  judgment.  Now  is  your 
opportunity  of  charging  me." 

But  the  silence  continued.  Only  one  spluttering 
voice  arose  for  a  moment  and  died  away  in  a  gurgle, 
as  if  it  were  being  stifled  by  force. 

"  You  are  dumb.  You  cannot  say  what  my  offence 
has  been, — and  you,  gentlemen !  Won't  you  come 
to  the  assistance  of  these  poor,  speechless  people  ? 
There  on  the  ground  lies  a  cross,  the  mark  of  honour 
our  nation  cherishes  more  highly  than  any  other, 
which  some  one  threw  away,  because  through  my 
possessing  one  like  it,  he  considered  it  contaminated. 
Some  one  else  declined  to  shake  hands  with  me  just 
now,  a  common  act  of  courtesy  which  no  man  of 
honour  refuses  another  unless  he  be  a  blackguard.  It 
does  not  matter,  Herr  Landrath,  if  in  this  instance 
judges  and  accusers  unite  in  a  common  cause.  Ac- 
cuse me  of  what  you  like,  condemn  me!  I  am 
prepared." 

Another  long  pause.  The  Landrath  twisted  his 
whiskers  in  embarrassment. 

"  And  you,  Herr  Pastor — it  is  hardly  fitting  that 
I  should  call  the  instructor  of  my  youth  to  account — 
but  some  months  ago  you  showed  me  the  door  in 
your  own  house.  Could  you  not  be  spokesman  now 
for  your  parishioners  ?  " 

The  old  man's  jaws  worked,  his  lips  moved,  but 
no  sound  issued  from  them.  He  appeared  to  have 
exhausted  his  strength,  but  the  wild,  fiery  glance  he 
darted  from  beneath  his  bushy  brows  boded  no 
good  to  Boleslav. 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     227 

With  a  laugh  he  went  on.  "  Then  I  must  be  my 
own  accuser."  He  felt  intoxicated  with  his  own 
courage.  "  Your  hand  against  every  man,  and  every 
man's  hand  against  you,"  cried  jubilantly  within  him. 
"  You  think  you  ought  to  visit  the  sins  of  the  fathers 
on  me ;  empty  the  vials  of  your  wrath  on  my  head 
because  you  cannot  reach  the  dead.  Very  well.  I 
am  his  heir.  I  take  his  guilt  upon  me,  and  do  not 
refuse  to  do  penance,  when  right  and  justice  demand 
it  of  me.  But  why  were  no  steps  taken  against  the 
dead  man  himself?  Why  was  he  not  tried  ?  Why 
not  dragged  to  the  scaffold  when  he  deserved  it? 
Herr  Landrath,  I  ask  you,  as  the  embodiment  of  the 
law,  why  did  the  State  remain  silent  and  suffer 
these  gallant  men  who  smarted  under  wrong  to  take 
revenge  into  their  own  hands  ?  And  such  a  revenge ! 
So  childish,  so  cruel,  that  one  would  have  thought  it 
could  only  have  occurred  to  the  primitive  brain  of 
bloodthirsty  savages.  Revenge  for  a  deed  which  at 
this  hour  I  neither  admit  nor  deny,  because  it  lies 
shrouded  in  mystery.  Which  of  you  can  say  how 
it  happened,  or  whether  it  happened  at  all  ?  And 
in  spite  of  this  uncertainty,  you  have  damned  and 
defamed  him  and  his  race,  deprived  them  of  honour 
and  justice.  Is  that  fair  play  ?  Now  I  ask  you  to 

put  us  on  our  trial,  me,  and  the  dead  man,  and " 

He  paused,  shocked  at  the  thought  that  he  had 
nearly  let  fall  Regina's  name. 

The  pastor's  eagle  eye  flashed  ominously.  Then 
collecting  himself,  he  continued  :  "  Inquire,  speak 
out  unravel  the  mystery,  clear  up  the  matter,  and 


228     THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

then  judge  and  pass  sentence.  But  at  the  same 
time  sit  in  judgment  and  pass  sentence  on  that 
other  crime,  the  crime  that  has  wrecked  my  pro- 
perty, and  leaves  me  only  uninhabitable  ruins  to 
live  in,  a  crime  that  cries  aloud  to  Heaven  for 
vengeance.  On  the  subject  of  other  outrages  and 
indignities  I  will  be  silent — threats  of  murder  to  me 
and  mine ;  the  blocking  of  the  churchyard  entrance 
to  my  father's  funeral  cortege — all  that  shall  pass. 
But  the  fire,  that  I  swear  shall  be  avenged !  If  till 
to-day  justice  has  been  blind  to  my  wrongs,  its 
eyes  shall  be  wrenched  open.  I  will  not  rest  day 
or  night  till  I  have  dragged  the  skulking  authors  of 
that  cowardly,  atrocious  deed  into  the  light  of  day, 
and  may  God  have  mercy  on  those  who  attempt  to 
screen  or  defend  them." 

Again  the  mob  showed  signs  of  uneasiness.  Its 
foremost  ranks  pressed  back  on  the  others,  as  if  to 
fly  from  the  vengeance  of  the  wrathful  man  who  had 
addressed  them  in  words  of  such  burning  indigna- 
tion. Again  from  the  neighbourhood  of  the  window 
came  hoarse,  stuttering  laughter  that  was  choked  off 
as  before. 

The  occupants  of  the  best  parlour  made  an  effort 
to  appear  as  if  they  had  not  been  listening  to 
Boleslav.  The  Landrath,  who  was  really  painfully 
affected,  busied  himself  with  more  zeal  than  ever 
in  looking  through  his  papers.  Old  Merckel  had 
picked  up  the  discarded  cross,  and  was  trying  to 
persuade  his  son,  who  resisted  sulkily,  to  wear  it 
again.  The  little  man  in  grey  had  come  out  from 


THE  SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS     229 

under  the  table,  and  was  employing  himself  in 
carefully  rubbing  dust  off  his  knees.  Only  the  old 
pastor  was  on  the  alert.  He  had  propped  his  stick 
against  the  table;  the  thin  white  hair  that  floated 
round  his  bald  skull  quivered.  He  stood  looking, 
with  his  vulture  profile,  and  small  eyes  flashing 
beneath  his  sharply  projecting  brows,  like  a  bird  of 
prey  waiting  to  pounce  on  its  booty. 

Had  Boleslav  caught  sight  of  him  at  that  moment, 
he  might  have  hesitated  to  make  a  fresh  challenge. 
But  he  wanted  to  score  all  along  the  line  and  com- 
plete his  victory. 

"  In  order  that  there  may  be  a  clear  understanding 
between  us,"  he  cried,  "that  all  may  see  who  has 
right  on  his  side  and  who  wrong,  I  ask,  which  of 
you  has  a  charge  to  prefer  against  me  ?  To  whom 
have  I  done  an  injury  ?  How  have  I  sinned  ?  " 

Then  the  voice  of  the  old  pastor  was  raised  be- 
hind him.  "  Is  Hackelberg,  the  carpenter,  here  ?  " 

Boleslav  winced.  That  voice  so  close  to  his  ear 
sounded  intimidating  and  uncanny,  and  prophetic 
of  coming  evil.  There  was  a  scuffling  and  swaying 
in  the  crowd.  The  ragged  figure  of  the  village 
drunkard,  by  means  of  shoves  and  kicks,  was  pro- 
pelled forward  into  the  front  row.  He  struggled 
and  beat  the  air  with  his  hands,  and  when  forced 
on  to  the  threshold  of  the  inner  parlour,  tried  to 
duck  beneath  the  legs  of  the  men  on  either  side 
of  him. 

"There  is  nothing  to  be  afraid  of,  Hackelberg," 
said  the  pastor.  "  I  will  see  that  you  are  not  hurt." 


230     THE  SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

Reassured,  he  drew  himself  up,  and  scanned  the 
gentlemen  he  had  been  brought  before  with  a  sus- 
picious, glassy  eye. 

"  What  creature  is  this  ?  "  inquired  the  Landrath, 
scandalised.  "Why  is  he  not  put  under  restraint  ?  " 

"  Because  his  condition  is  owing  more  to  his  mis- 
fortune than  his  fault,"  the  pastor  answered. 

Herr  Merckel  thought  it  his  duty  to  whisper  an 
explanation  to  his  superior. 

"  He  is  the  poor  father  so  much  to  be  pitied,"  he 
said,  with  a  mock  pathetic  air,  "whose  sad  story  I 
related  to  your  Hochwohlgeboren" 

At  the  same  time  he  watched  uneasily  some 
Schrandeners,  who  seemed  to  be  waiting  for  a 
signal  to  take  the  drunkard  into  custody. 

"Have  you  nothing  to  say,  Hackelberg?"  as!. 
the  pastor. 

"What  should  I  have  to  say,  Herr  Pastor?"  he 
lisped,  beginning  to  cringe  again,  and  drawing  the 
lappets  of  his  tattered  coat  over  his  naked  breast. 

"  Have  you  no  accusation  to  make  ?  " 

"  Let  me  go,"  he  growled.     "  I  haven't " 

"  Not  even  against  him  ? "  and  he  pointed  to 
Boleslav. 

A  glimmer  of  intelligence  came  into  the  dull, 
glazed  eyes.  He  understood  his  cue.  Old  Merckel 
nodded  at  him  encouragingly,  and  he  began  to  play 
his  favourite  r61e.  Floods  of  tears  that  the  besotted 
inebriate  can  always  command  so  easily,  poured 
over  his  cheeks.  He  rubbed  his  wet  face  with  his 
black  hands,  till  it  resembled  some  hideous  mask. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS     231 

"  Poor  fellow !  poor  outraged  father ! "  crooned 
Herr  Merckel,  senior,  wiping  his  own  eyes. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  absurd  farce?" 
asked  Boleslav,  with  a  scornful  laugh.  But  his  face 
had  become  visibly  paler. 

"  Here  we  don't  enact  farces,  but  sit  in  judgment," 
answered  the  pastor. 

Boleslav  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  am  pleased 
to  hear  it,"  he  said,  and  there  was  a  tremor  in  his 
voice. 

The  Schrandeners  craned  their  necks  to  get  a 
better  view  of  the  edifying  scene,  of  which  they 
now  expected  to  be  spectators.  In  the  momentary 
calm  that  ensued,  distant  whoops  and  yells  were 
heard  from  the  crowds  who  filled  the  square,  having 
stormed  the  inn  in  vain,  and  with  the  noise  there 
seemed  to  mingle  a  woman's  voice  crying  for 
succour. 

What  if  it  were  Regina  ?  But  it  was  not  pos- 
sible that  it  could  be  she ;  and  the  idea  vanished  as 
quickly  as  it  had  flashed  into  his  brain. 

"  My  child,  my  poor  wretched  child ! "  howled 
the  carpenter,  who  now  found  himself  in  more 
familiar  waters. 

"  What  have  they  done  to  your  child,  man  ? " 
asked  the  Land  rath,  who  was  not  going  to  tolerate 
the  conduct  of  affairs  being  taken  out  of  his  hands. 

"My  child  was  seduced  —  he  ruined  her  —  my 
fatherly  heart  is  ...  lacerated  ...  I  am  a  poor 
beg — gar  .  .  .  Only  one  coffin " 

"I  fancy  I  have  heard  you  harp  on  this  string 


232     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

before,"  the  Landrath  interrupted  him  sharply,  "  at 
the  time  when  I  examined  your  daughter  about  the 
Cats'  Bridge  disaster.  If  you  haven't  learnt  anything 
a  little  newer  than  that  in  five  years,  you'd  better 
nold  your  tongue.  It  seems/'  he  said,  turning  with 
a  smile  to  the  pastor,  "  as  if  this  ruffian  were  bent 
on  playing  the  part  of  Virginius." 

The  little  man  in  grey  laughed  shrilly  at  this 
facetious  sally  on  the  part  of  his  chief,  and  then 
was  overcome  with  confusion  at  his  own  timerity. 
But  the  old  pastor  was  less  disposed  to  appreciate 
the  Landrath's  urbane  humour. 

"  I  will  speak  for  you,  Hackelberg,"  he  said. 
"  My  words  must  be  taken  seriously.  I  will  speak 
for  you  and  for  all  of  us  in  the  name  of  our 
Heavenly  Father,  whose  commandments  were  not 
made  to  be  flouted  and  set  at  nought  by  aristo- 
crats. Freiherr  von  Schranden,  just  now  you 
challenged  me  to  speak.  Will  you  listen  to  what 
I  am  going  to  say  ?  " 

He  assented  impatiently.  For  the  second  time 
he  fancied  he  heard  that  cry  of  distress  rise  above 
the  hubbub  outside. 

"You  have  entered  into  the  inheritance  of  your 
father?" 

"Can  there  be  any  doubt  in  the  matter  ?" 

"  God  knows  !     None." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  I  mean  you  have  only  too  quickly  appropriated 
that  which  was  his  unlawful  possession." 

"  Herr  Pastor "     But  he  could   not  go   on. 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     233 

He  felt  a  choking  sensation  in  his  throat,  and  a 
stony  horror  creep  over  him. 

"Where  is  your  spirit?"  he  asked  himself; 
"your  boasted  defiance?" 

"You  found  a  woman,  Herr  Baron,  on  your 
estate  who  had  been  your  father's  mistress.  You 
found  her  degraded,  defiled,  dragged  through 
the  mire  of  wickedness  and  vice.  Year -long 
slavery  had  robbed  her  of  the  respect  of  every 
living  creature.  She  was  treated  as  a  mere  animal 
by  animals.  This  wretched  woman  belonged  to 
my  parish  and  to  me.  I  reared  her  in  the  way  she 
should  go.  It  was  my  hand  that  sprinkled  the 
baptismal  water  on  her  brow ;  my  hand  that  held 
the  chalice  to  her  lips  at  the  Holy  Sacrament ;  and 
I  promised  and  vowed  before  God,  and  in  pre- 
sence of  my  flock,  to  watch  over  this  young  soul; 
doubly  orphaned,  because  he  who  generated  her 
was  not  responsible  for  his  actions." 

"  Ah,  my  poor  orphaned  child ! "  maundered  the 
carpenter.  "  Only  two,  only  one  other  coffin  .  .  ." 

"I  am  answerable  for  her  to  God  and  the 
parish.  I  could  not  command  your  father  to  give 
her  up,  for,  as  I  told  you,  I  had  handed  him  over 
to  a  heavenly  tribunal ;  but  you,  who  have  courted 
this  inquiry,  I  command  to  give  her  up,  and,  what 
is  more,  in  the  present  hour  of  reckoning  I  exhort 
you  to  render  account  of  what  you  have  done  for 
her  soul." 

A  red  mist  floated  before  Boleslav's  eyes,  and  in 
this  mist  the  figure  of  the  venerable  priest  seemed 


234     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

to  grow  till  it  became  almost  god-like.  He  could 
only  stammer  forth — 

"  What  should  I  .  .  .  ?  "  And  the  old  man  took 
up  the  thread  of  his  speech  again — 

"  To-day  you  have  been  honoured  before  all  men 
by  our  King ;  but,  Boleslav  von  Schranden,  look  to 
it  that  God  holds  you  in  equal  esteem.  What 
should  you  have  done,  you  ask  ?  This  impure, 
abandoned  creature  ought  to  have  been  more 
awful,  more  sacred  to  you  than  any  other  earthly 
being.  What  have  you  done  to  atone  for  the  guilt 
your  father  heaped  on  her  ?  Have  you  freed  her 
from  the  bondage  into  which  she  had  sunk,  loosed 
her  from  the  chain  of  her  sin  ?  Have  you  pointed 
her  soul  upwards  to  God,  the  All-gracious  and  All- 
forgiving  ?  Or  have  you  dragged  her  down  deeper 
and  deeper  into  the  hell  that  your  own  flesh  and 
blood  created  for  her  ?  Above  all,  in  what  fashion 
have  you  been  living  with  her  ?  It  is  said  that, 
amidst  the  devastation  of  your  island,  there  is  only 
one  room  habitable.  Have  you  never  lost  sight  of 
the  fact  that  by  all  laws,  human  and  divine,  your 
father's  property  in  this  instance  was  for  you  for- 
bidden ?  Have  you  taught  her  to  repent  and  pray, 
or  have  you  filled  her  poor  undisciplined  senses 
with  fresh  poison  ?  And  have  you  preserved  your 
own  blood  intact  from  sinful  desires  and  lust  ?  Or 
have  you  let  your  passions,  like  greedy  beasts 
waiting  whom  they  may  devour,  keep  watch  on 
her,  ready  to  spring  in  an  hour  of  weakness,  thus 
adding  fresh  shame ?  " 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     235 

"  Cease  ! "  cried  Boleslav.     "  This  is  too  much ! " 

Truly  scorpions  proceeded  out  of  the  mouth  of 
this  mild  Christian  priest,  who  knew  how  to  re- 
veal and  lash  secret  sins  of  the  imagination,  which 
till  this  hour  Boleslav  never  suspected  had  existed 
in  his. 

But  now  he  saw  it  all.  Everything  was  clear. 
Now  he  knew  what  it  was  had  sent  his  blood  tear- 
ing impetuously  through  his  veins  in  the  long  night 
vigils,  and  had  made  him  hold  his  breath,  and  listen 
to  hear  whether  that  other  breath  did  not  come  faster 
or  slower,  showing  that  she,  too,  was  sleepless  and 
on  guard.  It  was  sinful  desire  for  her  body — the 
body  that  had  been  dishonoured  and  abused,  yet  in 
spite  of  all  remained  so  triumphantly  beautiful. 

Thank  God !  ah,  thank  God !  that  the  sin  was 
still  confined  to  his  inner  consciousness.  There 
was  yet  time  to  lock  it  behind  bolts  and  bars  to 
prevent  its  stealing  forth  over  the  fatal  threshold. 
So  far  he  could  claim  the  right  to  be  his  own  judge, 
to  stand  before  the  private  judgment-seat  of  his 
own  conscience. 

He  looked  round  him,  and  his  face  was  distraught 
and  ghastly  pale.  He  saw  triumph  flame  up  again 
in  the  eyes  that  watched  him. 

"What  right  have  you  to  impute  this  crime  to 
me  ?  "  he  said  to  the  pastor. 

"  I  did  not  impute  it — I  merely  asked  you,"  the 
old  man  interposed  quickly.  "You  have  become 
too  pale,  Htrr  Baron,  for  us  not  to  observe  your 
discomfiture." 


236     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"Condemned  out  of  his  own  mouth,  unhappy 
man,"  murmured  Heir  Merckel,  senior,  with  a  sigh. 

The  Schrandeners,  in  the  renewed  hope  of  being 
allowed  to  spring  at  his  throat,  set  up  a  fearful  howl, 
and  pressed  forward  once  more. 

Then  above  all  the  din  there  was  distinctly  heard 
from  the  yard  a  shriek  of  anguish  that  caused 
BoleslaVs  marrow  to  freeze  in  his  bones.  There 
could  be  no  mistake  now.  That  was  Regina ! 

"  Regina ! "  he  cried,  and  rushed  to  the  window 
that  opened  on  the  yard.  There  the  mad  chase 
was  in  full  cry.  A  crew  of  furious  dishevelled 
women  were  dashing  over  hedges,  ditches,  waggons, 
barrels,  and  frozen  dunghills,  followed  by  boys 
armed  with  clubs.  The  air  was  thick  with  flying 
stones. 

"  Help !  help ! "  shrieked  Regina's  voice.  But  she 
herself  was  not  visible. 

But  as  he  wrenched  open  the  back  door  she  flew 
like  a  wounded  bird  into  the  dark  corridor,  followed 
closely  by  her  would-be  assassins  whooping  and 
panting. 

He  pulled  her  with  a  powerful  movement  of  his 
arm  into  the  room,  and  shut  the  door  on  the  furies 
in  pursuit. 

She  sank  on  the  floor  at  his  feet  and  pressed  her 
face  against  the  hem  of  his  coat. 

Her  hands  relaxed  their  cramped  grasp  on  two 
splintered  pieces  of  wood — all  that  was  left  of  her 
tub,  the  shield  with  which  she  had  been  in  the  habit 
of  warding  off  assaults.  Her  hair  was  loose,  her 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS     237 

dress  torn,  the  pretty  fur-trimming  that  she  had  been 
so  proud  of,  hanging  about  her  in  tatters. 

u  A  charming  pair  of  lovers,"  said  Herr  Merckel, 
rubbing  his  hands  in  keen  enjoyment  of  the  scene, 
while  the  Schrandeners  displayed  a  strong  disposi- 
tion to  continue  the  work  begun  outside  by  their 
womankind.  The  very  sight  of  Regina  was  suffi- 
cient to  excite  to  an  uncontrollable  degree  their 
predilection  for  "throwing  something."  With  a 
yell  of  delight  they  looked  round  them  in  search  of 
missiles, — and  already  two  earthenware  mugs  had 
been  hurled  into  the  gentry's  parlour,  one  of  which 
struck  the  carpenter  on  the  shoulder.  This  instinct 
for  smiting  was  now  stronger  in  them  than  the 
thirst  for  a  life. 

The  Landrath  wrung  his  bony  hands  in  despair. 
All  his  courtesy  and  distinction  of  manner  was  lost 
on  this  pack  of  devils. 

"  Herr  Landrath"  said  Boleslav,  pointing  to  the 
woman  cowering  almost  insensible  at  his  feet,  "I 
beg  you  to  make  a  note  of  this  pandemonium.  If 
you  do  not  feel  inclined  to  interfere,  I  take  the 
liberty  to  warn  you  that  you  may  have  to  appear  in 
your  own  august  person  as  a  witness  in  a  court  of 
law  against  these  gallant  people." 

Certainly  the  Landrath  seemed  hardly  aware  of 
the  pitiable  figure  he  was  cutting.  His  splendid 
mane  now  hung  in  shaggy  disorder  about  his  face, 
which  had  assumed  a  peevish  ezpression. 

"Merckel,"  he  rasped,  "you  are  mayor.  I'll 
have  you  superseded,  unless  you  can  maintain 


238     THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

order.  Order !  do  you  hear,  good  people.  Order ! 
This  is  breaking  the  public  peace.  You  deserve 
imprisonment — in  fact  you  shall  be  sent  to  prison. 
Taken  with  arms  in  your  hand,  means  three  years, 
not -a  day  less  than  three  years,  good  people.  To- 
morrow I  shall  send  gendarmes,  three  gendarmes." 

It  must  have  been  his  good  angel  that  put  this 
threat  into  his  head,  for  no  other  could  have  had 
the  same  effect  in  bringing  the  rebels  to  their 
senses.  Since  the  war  no  gendarmes  had  been 
stationed  in  Schranden,  which  was  a  piece  of  good 
fortune  not  to  be  scouted  at,  for  its  inhabitants 
feared  gendarmes  more  than  they  feared  the  king. 

Herr  Merckel,  who  began  to  tremble  for  his 
office,  was  now  assiduous  in  his  efforts  to  restore 
peace.  His  son  leant  back  with  folded  arms  in  the 
corner  of  the  window-seat,  affecting  to  be  highly 
amused  at  the  proceedings. 

But  the  old  pastor's  gaze  never  wavered  from 
the  pair,  and  seemed  to  be  searching  the  innermost 
recesses  of  their  hearts. 

"Stand  up,  Regina,"  said  Boleslav  to  the  kneeling 
girl.  "  They  shall  not  hurt  you.  I  will  defend  you." 

But  she  remained  huddled  at  his  feet,  still  quaking 
with  fear. 

"  It's  not  true,  Herr,  that  they  are  going  to  take 
you  away?"  she  sobbed.  "If  it  is,  I  will  starve 
myself  and  freeze  to  death." 

"  No,  it's  not  true ;  but  get  up,  Regina." 

"Master;  ah,  my  dear,  dear  master!"  and  she 
pressed  her  forehead  against  his  knee. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     239 

"  Boleslav  von  Schranden,  do  you  deny  it  now  ?  " 

"  Deny  what  ?  "  he  asked.  "  That  this  poor  un- 
happy girl  whom  you  have  denounced  and  ostracised 
regards  me  as  her  rescuer  and  saviour,  because  I 
am  the  first  who  for  years  has  spoken  a  kind  word 
to  her?  Or  would  you  have  me  deny  that  this 
same  unhappy  girl  has  endeared  herself  to  me, 
because  she  is  the  only  human  being  on  God's 
earth  who  has  clung  to  me  in  my  hour  of  need, 
when  every  one  else  has  forsaken  me  ?  I  should 
be  an  ungrateful  ruffian  if  I  did  not  value  her  after 
all  she  has  done  for  me.  I  never  asked  her  to 
share  my  solitude  among  the  ruins.  It  is  not  so 
comfortable  or  lively  up  there,  and  all  my  goodness 
to  her  has  consisted  in  my  allowing  her  to  sacrifice 
herself  for  me.  I  have  not  been  able  to  supply 
her  with  pleasures.  There  has  been  no  unlawful 
intimacy  between  us.  If  she  prefers  to  be  my 
body-slave  to  being  stoned  and  harried  to  death, 
that  is  no  concern  of  any  one's  in  the  world,  least 
of  all  of  you  Schrandeners,  and  of  that  despicable 
drunkard  who  prostituted  his  own  flesh  and  blood." 

Gently  prompted  by  old  Merckel,  the  carpenter 
recommenced  playing  the  rdle  of  injured  father. 

"Oh  my  daughter !  my  poor,  misguided  daughter !" 
he  groaned. 

"Do  your  duty,"  urged  the  landlord;  "reclaim 
her." 

"Come,  my  child;  come  back  to  your  broken- 
hearted, deserted  father.  He  has  taken  to  drink 
through  grief  .  .  .  driven  to  it.  He  will  only  make 


240     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

two  more  coffins ;  one  for  himself  and  one 
for " 

He  stretched  out  his  dirty  hand  to  her,  which, 
shuddering,  she  violently  repulsed. 

"  Do  not  distress  yourself  further,"  said  Boleslav. 
"She  belongs  to  me  as  I  belong  to  her." 

"  Nevertheless,  I  demand  her  from  you  this  day, 
Boleslav  von  Schranden,"  said  the  old  pastor,  placing 
his  hand  on  Regina's  head.  She  cowered,  but  let 
it  lie  there. 

"  That  you  may  be  able  to  stone  her  better  ?  " 

"  I  promise  you  that  no  harm  shall  come  to  her. 
I  will  confide  her  to  the  care  of  one  of  my  spiritual 
brethren,  who  will  see  to  her  wants  for  this  side 
of  the  grave  and  the  other.  If  you  oppose  her 
redemption,  you  will  only  be  knitting  the  chain  of 
your  sin  the  closer." 

Boleslav  was  silent.  A  thousand  thoughts  rushed 
through  his  brain.  This  old  man's  word  was  to  be 
relied  on ;  he  was  no  cheat.  And  what  lawful  claim 
had  he  to  this  woman  lying  helpless  at  his  feet? 
How  could  he  make  it  worth  her  while  to  perpetually 
risk  her  life  for  him  ? 

Then  the  Landrath,  who  had  partially  recovered 
from  his  panic,  put  in  his  word.  "  Is  the  young 
person  of  age  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  pastor  calculated  a  moment,  and  replied  in 
the  affirmative. 

"The  vis  paterna  therefore  cannot  be  enforced 
against  her  wishes,  otherwise  she  might  be  sent  to 
a  penitentiary,  where " 


THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS     241 

The  rest  of  his  speech  was  cut  short  by  a  burst  of 
ironical  laughter  from  Boleslav. 

"  She  may  decide  for  herself.  Does  that  satisfy 
you,  Herr  Baron  ?  " 

"  I  shall  not  influence  her  one  way  or  the  other," 
he  muttered,  and  he  felt  the  form  at  his  feet  vibrate. 
He  bent  over  her.  "  Regina,  do  you  hear  what  the 
pastor  promises  to  do  for  you  ?  You  know  your 
future  is  monetarily  provided  for.  Will  you  leave 
the  rest,  and  go  with  him." 

Then  she  lifted  her  glowing  face  streaming  with 
tears  to  his,  and  sobbed  out,  "  Please,  Herr,  don't 
make  fun  of  me." 

"  You  wish  to  stay  with  me  ?  " 

"  Ah,  Herr,  you  know  I  wish  it  Why  do  you 
ask?" 

"  Stand  up  then,  and  we  will  go." 

The  pastor  barred  their  way.  He  had  become 
ashy  pale,  and  his  vulture  gaze  pierced  Boleslav 
through  and  through.  He  laid  his  hand  solemnly 
on  his  shoulder  as  he  had  done  the  day  he  had 
demonstrated  to  him  his  father's  guilt. 

"  My  son,"  he  said,  "  you  too  I  received  into  holy 
baptism,  and  taught  you  to  lisp  God's  name,  and 
opened  your  eyes  to  the  marvels  of  His  creation. 
You  were  to  me  as  my  own  child,  and  more,  because 
you  were  the  son  of  my  terrestrial  lord  and  master.  I 
have  to  answer  for  you  too  before  the  throne  of  God. 
You  have  not  been  able  to  clear  yourself  of  the  sus- 
picion that  rests  upon  you,  and  if  I  read  your  soul 
aright — don't  cast  down  your  eyes — I  think  I  am  not 

Q 


242     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

mistaken.  Therefore,  I  again  command  you  to  give 
up  this  woman.  I  command  and  exhort  you  to  do 
so  in  the  name  of  your  father,  the  name  of  the 
parish,  the  name  of  our  Master  in  heaven  who  is 
the  Father  of  all  orphans  and  irresponsible  children 
who  sin  unconsciously.  Give  her  up— and  you 
shall  be  acquitted  as  blameless,  and  go  your  way 
in  peace." 

Regina  had  raised  herself,  and  now  clung  to  his 
arm,  trembling  from  head  to  foot 

"  Come ! "  Boleslav  said.  "  It  is  to  be  hoped  they 
will  let  us  pass,"  and  he  made  a  motion  as  if  he  were 
going  to  push  by  the  old  man.  But  he  planted 
himself  again  in  their  way,  and  holding  his  arms 
aloft,  said — 

"  Then  you  are  worthy  of  your  father.  And  as  I 
once  cursed  him,  I  curse  you  to-day,  you  and  this 
woman  together.  You  shall  be  like  Cain,  whom  the 
Lord  banished  from  His  sight.  .  .  .  You  shall  be  a 
fugitive  and  an  outcast  on  the  earth,  and  your  home 
shall  lie  in  ruins  for  evermore.  There  you  shall  abide 
with  this  woman.  .  .  .  Now  go!  Make  room  for 
them  there !  and  who  lifts  a  hand  against  either  of 
them  or  lays  a  finger  on  them  shall  be  cursed,  as 
they  are  cursed." 

Boleslav  uttered  a  sound  that  broke  discordantly 
on  the  solemn  silence — 

"  Come !  "  he  said,  and  took  Regina's  hand  in  his ; 
"  let  the  old  man  curse,  it  seems  to  be  his  trade ; " 
but  he  felt  a  cold  shiver  run  through  him. 

He  saw  a  lane  open  which  reached  to  the  door, 


THE    SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS      243 

in  the  densely-packed  tap-room.      Hand  in  hand  he 
and  Regina  walked  down  it. 

No  one  laughed,  no  one  sneered,  no  one  stirred. 
A  superstitious  awe  seemed  to  have  struck  the  on- 
lookers dumb.  The  breath  of  the  winter  evening  met 
their  faces  with  an  icy  tooth.  Had  some  one  spread 
the  news  of  what  had  happened  within,  among  the 
crowd  that  waited  outside,  or  had  they  divined  it  by 
instinct  ?  Here  too  was  profound  silence ;  here  too 
a  path  was  made  for  them,  which  they  followed, 
bending  their  footsteps  river  wards  with  bowed 
heads. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  glow  in  the  evening  sky  faded.  A  violet 
vapour  hung  about  the  bare  tracery  of  the  tree-tops, 
and  showers  of  sparkling  crystals  rained  from  the 
branches. 

Boles! av  ground  the  snow  under  his  heel.  His 
breath  curled  in  front  of  him  in  slender  columns. 
The  keen  frosty  air  was  balm  to  his  fevered  face. 
He  had  sent  Regina  on  before,  and  was  trying  to 
regain  calmness  and  presence  of  mind  in  solitary 
wandering,  for  his  brain  boiled  like  a  witch's 
caldron. 

The  curse  stood  out  intangibly  in  his  ruminations ; 
it  was  like  the  bogey  that  little  children  people  the 
darkness  with.  He  saw  it  everywhere ;  it  haunted 
him.  How  well  his  father's  old  enemy  had  availed 
himself  of  the  opportunity  of  doing  what  probably 
he  had  long  connived  at,  putting  the  son  under  the 
same  ban  as  the  father. 

But  it  was  a  terrible  reflection  to  think  he  might 
have  deserved  that  curse.  As  it  was,  he  had  not 
merited  it ;  a  thousand  times  no !  What  the  veteran 
priest  in  his  dark  suspicion  had  alluded  to  as  an 
accomplished  brutal  fact,  had  really  only  swept  his 
soul  with  phantom  wings.  Now  that  his  conscience 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     245 

was  awakened  to  the  danger  of  the  situation,  the 
danger  itself  was  over.  After  all,  he  ought  to  be 
indebted  to  the  pastor  for  showing  him  the  yawning 
precipice  that  lay  at  his  unwary  feet. 

"Think  no  more  of  it,"  he  said  to  himself;  "I 
am  the  master,  she  the  servant,  and  I  should  be  an 
accursed " 

He  stopped.  Was  he  not  already  accursed  ? 
Then  he  laughed  at  his  foolish  fears.  It  was  childish 
to  mind.  Bah !  he  was  too  susceptible.  At  all 
events,  this  day  should  be  the  beginning  of  a  new 
epoch  in  his  relations  with  the  outer  world.  The 
possession  of  the  iron  cross  was  a  proof  that  he  was 
not  dishonoured  or  outside  the  pale  of  law  and 
justice.  With  it  he  might,  if  he  had  the  courage, 
outwit  the  knavish  tricks  of  his  personal  enemies, 
and  appeal  to  the  assistance  of  the  Courts.  If  the 
judge  of  the  district  had  chosen  to  condone  the  fire 
by  ignoring  it,  he  might  in  his  turn  light  a  fire  that 
would  send  forth  such  a  blaze  that  the  very  holes 
where  the  incendiaries  skulked  would  be  illuminated. 
But  it  would  involve  dragging  his  father's  dealings 
also  into  the  fierce  light  of  day.  Could  he  dare  to 
disturb  the  peace  of  the  dead,  like  a  body-snatcher, 
and  blazon  forth  the  shame  of  his  house  in  the  face 
of  all  the  world  ? 

His  mouth  became  distorted  with  the  defiance  that 
inwardly  consumed  him.  He  felt  for  the  moment 
as  if  deliberate  self-destruction  were  a  mere  joke. 
Why  should  he  hold  back ;  stop  at  anything  ? 
Was  he  not  under  a  curse?  A  bitter  laugh 


246     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

rose  in  his  throat.  He  could  not  forget  that 
curse ! 

Then  he  went  into  the  house.  Regina  was  laying 
the  table  for  supper.  She  had  mended  her  jacket, 
and  smoothed  out  her  hair  with  water.  Her  face 
was  as  calm  as  if  nothing  in  the  least  out  of  the 
way  had  happened;  only  a  scratch  on  her  throat, 
testified  to  the  hours  of  peril  she  had  lately  lived 
through. 

With  affected  severity  he  asked,  "  What  induced 
you,  Regina,  to  be  so  silly  as  to  come  near  the  inn  ?  " 

She  measured  him  with  a  shy  "glance.  "  I  beg 
your  pardon,  Herr?  she  said,  with  a  graceful  bend 
of  her  neck.  "  I  found  your  letter,  and  I  saw  every- 
thing swimming  green  and  yellow  before  my  eyes,  it 
made  me  feel  so  queer.  I  hardly  knew  what  I  was 
about.  I  thought  perhaps  I  could  help  to  set  you 
free." 

"Stupid  child!"  he  said,  and  laughed;  but  a 
feeling  rose  within  him  that  had  to  be  forcibly 
repressed. 

"  Bring  the  wine,"  he  ordered,  as  he  sat  down 
to  the  table. 

"  Which  kind,  Herr?" 

"The  best.  It  is  high  festival  and  holiday 
to-day ! " 

She  looked  at  him  in  surprise,  and  went. 

"  Fetch  a  glass  for  yourself,"  he  said,  as  she 
uncorked  the  grey  cobwebby  bottle. 

"Oh,  please,  Herr,  I'd  rather  not.  It's  too 
strong." 


THE    SINS    OF    THE    hAltiiLKb      247 

14  Nonsense !  you  will  get  used  to  it." 

w  Perhaps,  Herr? 

He  poured  out  the  wine.  The  dark-gold  fluid 
foamed  sparkling  into  the  slender-stemmed  emerald 
rummers,  which,  perishable  as  they  were,  had  been 
saved  from  the  ruins, 

"  Clink ! "  he  said. 

The  glasses  as  they  came  in  contact  produced 
music  like  muffled  bells. 

"The  curse  of  a  priest  has  to-day  coupled  me 
with  her,"  he  thought,  and  his  eyes  sought  hers 
and  probed  their  depths.  "  How  extraordinary !  how 
monstrous!"  This  woman  was  to  be  part  of  his 
existence,  the  old  man  had  said.  This  woman — 
why,  oh,  why  this  one  ? 

"A  curse  is  a  sanction,"  he  meditated  further. 
"  Something  that  never  happened,  and  never  would 
have  happened,  through  him  has  been  substantiated 
and  vouched  for  before  Heaven  as  if  it  were  an 
established  fact." 

And  again  his  thoughts  began  to  encroach 
stealthily  on  that  forbidden  ground,  in  whose  in- 
surmountable barriers  the  preacher's  words  them- 
selves had  quarried  access.  "  You  are  master,"  he 
repeated  the  formula  over  and  over  to  himself, 
"  she  the  servant ; "  and  then  he  added,  "  What  is 
more,  she  is  your  slave,  and  so  let  it  be." 

One  course  of  action  seemed  clear  enough  at  the 
moment,  and  that  was  that  progress  must  be  made 
immediately  with  his  work  of  retaliation.  He  bade 
Regina  remove  the  dishes  and  bring  another  bottle 


248     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

of  wine.  Then  he  fetched  his  writing  materials  and 
motioned  her  to  sit  down  in  the  place  she  had 
occupied  on  Christmas  evening.  With  shy  delight 
she  obeyed,  for  since  that  night  she  had  spent  her 
evenings  till  bed-time  alone  in  the  vestibule. 

"  I'm  going  to  ask  you,  Regina,"  he  began,  "  to 
answer  very  briefly,  and  to  the  point,  several 
questions ! " 

She  started,  then  whispered,  "Yes,  Herr." 

"  Drink,  and  that  will  make  you  more  talkative." 

She  struggled  to  do  as  he  desired,  but  to-day  the 
effect  the  wine  had  upon  her  was  to  make  her  more 
nervous  and  reserved,  instead  of  less  so. 

"To  go  back  to  the  night  in  which  you  led  the 
French  across  the  Cats'  Bridge.  Was  there  any  one 
on  the  premises  who  knew  of  the  expedition  ?  " 

"  No,  Herr." 

"  How  did  it  get  wind  in  the  village  then  ?  " 

She  cast  down  her  eyes.  "  I  believe  through  me, 
Herr"  she  stammered. 

"  To  whom  did  you  confide  the  information  ?  M 

"To  my  father." 

"  How,  and  when  ?  " 

"He  used  to  come  to  the  Castle  secretly  from 
time  to  time  to  get  money  from  me,  and  if  I  hadn't 
any  to  give  him  he  pinched  and  beat  me." 

"  Why  did  you  not  call  out  for  help  ?  " 

"Because  it  was  at  night,  Herr ;  and  if  he  had 
been  found  there  they  would  have  flogged  him." 

"Goon." 

"  And  so  he  came  soon  after  .  .  .  after  the  expedi- 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     249 

tion,  I  mean  .  .  .  and  asked  me  to  do  all  sorts  of 
things.  I  was  to  get  money  from  the  gnddiger  Herr 
...  or  to  turn  out  his  pockets  when  no  one  was 
looking ;  and  to  be  left  in  peace,  I  fetched  the  bag 
the  French  General  had  given  me.  And  when  he 
saw  the  moonlight  shine  on  the  coin  that  was  in  it, 
he  was  half  mad " 

She  paused  abruptly. 

"Well?" 

"Must  I  say  it,  Herr?" 

"  Of  course  you  must." 

" But  he  is  my  father,  Herr" 

"  You  are  to  do  as  I  command  you." 

She  drew  a  deep  sigh  and  went  on.  "And  he 
caught  hold  of  me  by  the  throat  with  one  hand, 
and  beat  me  with  the  other,  and  hissed  in  my  ear : 
1  Unless  you  confess  how  you  came  by  all  that  money, 

I'll  squeeze  the  life  out  of  you '  And  when  I 

could  hardly  breathe,  I " 

He  laughed  harshly  to  himself.  His  father  and 
her  father — both  had  resorted  to  the  same  chivalrous 
measures. 

Regina  thought  the  laugh  was  at  her  expense. 

"Ah,  Herr"  she  went  on  with  an  imploring 
upward  glance,  "I  was  so  dreadfully  stupid  then. 
Even  a  fortnight  later,  when  they  cross-examined 
me,  they  could  have  strangled  me  before  they  would 
have  got  anything  out  of  me.  But  then — I  suppose 
it  was  because  he  was  my  father " 

"Oh  yes,  I  understand.  You  told  tales  out  of 
school  to  your  father.  Well,  what  else  ?  " 


250     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"The  very  same  night  my  conscience  pricked 
me,  and  in  the  morning  when  I  took  the  gnadiger 
Herr  his  coffee — he  would  always  have  me  take  it 
—I  told  him  all." 

"  And  what  did  he  say  ?  " 

"  He  turned  as  white  as  chalk,  but  said  nothing 
at  first.  He  took  down  a  gun  from  the  wall  and 
pointed  it  at  me ;  I  folded  my  hands  and  closed  my 
eyes,  and  then  I  heard  him  utter  an  oath,  and 
then  he  put  the  gun  over  his  shoulder  and  rushed 
out.  I  thought  to  myself,  he's  gone  to  put  an  end 
to  father !  And  I  watched  him  run  towards  the 
drawbridge  with  his  two  bloodhounds,  and  then 
I,  as  quick  as  lightning,  hurried  through  the  park, 
across  the  Cats'  Bridge  to  the  village,  to  let  father 
know  his  life  was  in  danger.  Had  he  been  at  home 
I  couldn't  have  saved  him.  But  he  was  in  the  Black 
Eagle,  and  had  blabbed  everything  the  night  before, 
and  was  now  blind  drunk.  The  gnadiger  Herr  won't 
fetch  him  out  of  the  Black  Eagle,  I  thought — and  be- 
sides it  was  too  late,  for  Herr  Merckel  and  every  one 
knew,  and  they  all  made  a  great  hullabaloo  when 
they  saw  me,  and  caught  hold  of  me,  and  tried  to 
force  me  to  speak ;  but  I  bit  my  tongue  till  it  bled, 
and  kept  silent.  Then  they  let  me  go,  and  I  ran  to 
meet  the  gnadiger  Herr,  and  threw  myself  at  his 
feet,  saying,  '  Spare  his  life,  for  it  will  do  no  good  to 
take  it.  All  the  world  knows  now.'  .  .  He  gave  me 
a  kick  that  made  me  faint,  but  he  left  father  alone. 
And  then  a  fortnight  after  a  gendarme  came  for  me, 
and  took  me  to  the  Black  Eagle.  There,  in  the 


THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS      251 

wine-room,  were  assembled  five  or  six  gentlemen; 
the  Herr  Landrath,  who  was  there  to-day,  among 
them.  And  they  shut  the  door  behind  me,  and 
began  to  cross-question  me.  I  felt  as  if  I  could  do 
nothing  but  cry,  and  then  I  grew  calmer,  and  pre- 
tended that  father  had  dreamt  it  all  in  one  of  his 
drunken  fits.  But  they  showed  me  the  bag  he 
had  taken  from  me — and  so — Herr  ...  I  was 
obliged  to  say  .  .  .  that  the  money  .  .  .  was  the  .  .  . 

reward  .  .  .  that  I "      She  broke  off,  and  hid 

her  face  that  was  suffused  with  a  dark  crimson  flush 
of  shame,  in  her  hands. 

"  Proceed  with  your  story,"  he  commanded,  grind 
ing  his  teeth. 

"  They  didn't  believe  me,  Herr,  but  they  saw  it 
was  no  good  trying  to  get  the  truth  out  of  me,  and 
asked  me  no  more  questions.  And  then  they  held 
a  consultation  in  low  voices  (but  I  have  good  ears, 
and  understood  all  they  were  saying),  as  to  whether 
they  should  lock  me  up  till  I  found  my  tongue,  and 
arrest  the  gnddiger  Herr,  and  so  on,  and  then  they 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  to  blaze  it  abroad  would 
cause  too  great  a  scandal  in  the  district,  and  be  a 
dishonour  to  the  whole  of  Prussia,  and  as  there  was 
no  direct  proof,  the  affair  might  be  left  in  the  dark. 
I  have  forgotten  the  exact  words,  but  it  was  some- 
thing like  that." 

"  And  then  they  let  you  go  ?  " 

"Yes.  Herr  Merckel  said  I  was  to  take  myself 
off,  or  my  presence  might  breed  a  pestilence  in  the 
house." 


2$2     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

A  silence  ensued :  then  hastily  gulping  down  three 
more  glasses  of  the  old  wine,  he  said — 

"  Now,  then,  for  the  night  of  the  fire  ! " 

She  jumped  up  from  her  chair  and  stared  at  him, 
her  eyes  starting  with  horror. 

"  What !     I'm  to  tell  you  about  the  fire  ?  " 

"  All  you  can  recollect." 

"All!  .  .  .  Not  all,  Herr?" 

"  All." 

"  Herr  ...  I  can't."  The  words  rattled  in  her 
throat  like  a  death-agony. 

"  You  mean  you  refuse  ?  "  He  too  had  risen,  and 
stood  looking  at  her  with  dilated  eyes. 

She  folded  her  hands  on  her  breast.  "  I  have 
always  been  obedient,  Herr,  to  your  every  wish.  I 
have  never  been  unwilling  or  grumbled.  I'll  go  on 
doing  all  you  order  me  to  do.  If  you  say,  '  Go  out 
and  be  stoned  to  death,'  I'll  go.  But  just  this  one 
thing,  I  beseech  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart, 
don't  ask  me  ?  " 

He  regarded  her  in  wrathful  amazement.  So 
accustomed  had  he  become  to  her  unconditional 
obedience,  that  this  explosion  in  her  of  a  spark  of 
resistance  was  incomprehensible  to  him.  Was  his 
power  over  her,  that  he  had  imagined  unlimited, 
thus  suddenly  to  end  ?  Surely  this  woman  had  of 
her  own  accord  made  herself  his  body-slave  ?  She 
had  sold  herself  body  and  soul  to  his  house,  and 
therefore  it  was  unpardonable  presumption  in  her 
to  assert  unexpectedly  that  she  had  a  will  of  her 
own. 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS     253 

The  blood  mounted  hotly  to  his  head,  and  his 
eyes  flashed.  "You  shall! — I  say  you  shall!" 

She  retreated  and  shrank  against  the  wall.  From 
the  dark  background  her  eyes  shone  out  at  him  like 
a  persecuted  wild-cat's.  "  I  won't,"  she  muttered. 

All  the  inherited  brutality  of  the  feudal  master 
awoke  in  him.  The  wine,  too,  was  doing  its  work. 
He  sprang  on  her,  and  caught  her  by  the  breast. 

The  buttons  of  her  jacket  burst  beneath  his 
violent  attack,  and  her  bare  bosom  gleamed  forth. 
He  transfixed  her  with  the  intensity  of  his  gaze. 

"Shall  I  throttle  her,  or  shall  I  kiss  her?"  he 
asked  himself,  and  fumbled  for  her  throat. 

Then  in  her  deadly  terror  she  made  a  counter- 
attack. Her  hands  were  fastened  in  his  shoulders 
like  iron  rivets.  It  needed  a  gathering  up  of  all  his 
strength  to  withstand  their  muscular  pressure. 

A  noiseless  struggle  began.  It  lasted  a  minute, 
and  yet  seemed  to  be  no  nearer  its  end.  Embittered 
and  desperate  at  first  as  a  wrestle  for  life  and  death, 
it  became  eventually  a  sort  of  game.  The  combat- 
ants apparently  had  lost  sight  of  what  it  was  they 
were  struggling  for.  His  eyes,  bloodshot  and  wild, 
sought  hers.  Her  bosom,  wet  with  perspiration, 
pressed  hard  against  his.  Their  breathing  mingled. 
Tightly  locked  in  each  other's  arms  they  staggered 
and  swayed  to  and  fro.  He  pressed  her  in  the 
back  of  her  knee,  but  she  did  not  yield,  and  with 
renewed  vigour  tried  to  draw  him  down  to  her. 
For  one  second  in  their  delirious  grappling  they 
gazed  dreamily  into  each  other's  eyes.  Then  she 


254     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

vibrated  from  head  to  foot,  and  in  the  midst  of  the 
conflict  laid  her  cheek  caressingly  on  the  arm  that 
was  raised  against  her.  He  saw  the  action,  he  saw 
how  her  eyes  hung  on  his  face  with  melting  solici- 
tude— saw  the  beautiful  dishevelled  head  droop  like 
a  broken  flower. 

"If  you  are  cursed,  why  should  it  be  for  no- 
thing?" And  as  the  thought  flashed  through  him, 
he  bent  over  her  with  a  sigh,  and  kissed  her  on  the 
mouth. 

She  groaned  aloud,  clung  heavily  to  him,  and 
buried  her  teeth,  till  they  met,  in  his  lips.  Then, 
overcome,  with  suddenly  collapsed  limbs,  she  slipped 
from  his  arms  on  to  the  floor,  and  lay  with  the  back 
of  her  head  flat  on  the  bare  boards. 

He  stared  down  at  her  half-stunned.  She  would 
have  looked  as  if  she  were  dead,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  heaving  bosom,  that  seemed  to  fight  lor 
air.  Blood  trickled  from  his  lip,  and  unconsciously 
he  wiped  it  away  with  his  tongue. 

"  What  next  ?  "  he  asked  himself. 

The  longer  he  gazed  at  the  prostrate  form  the 
intenser  became  his  anxiety,  till  it  almost  amounted 
to  insanity ;  anxiety  for  what  must  come. 

"  Away !  out  of  the  house !  Away  before  she 
moves ! "  an  inward  voice  commanded.  He  tore 
down  his  coat  from  the  wall,  crushed  a  fur  cap  over 
his  brow,  and  flew  out  into  the  bitter  cold  night,  as 
if  chased  by  the  devil. 

But  he  could  not  escape — could  not  run  awa> 
from  her ;  wherever  he  went  she  was  beside  him. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     255 

A  tornado  raged  in  his  breast,  and  lashed  the 
blood  to  froth  in  his  veins. 

He  was  fleeing  from  his  young  manhood's  senses, 
and  they  were  in  hot  pursuit. 

He  dashed  through  the  woods  at  full  speed.  The 
frosty  air  did  not  cool  him,  nor  the  darkness  restore 
his  serenity. 

Was  there  no  salvation  ?     None  ? 

He  thought  of  the  parsonage.  A  jeering  laugh 
rose  to  his  lips.  Helene  had  shrunk  from  him 
when  he  had  approached  her  with  clean  hands  and 
a  pure  heart.  What  would  she  do  to-day  if  he 
came  into  her  presence  bearing  a  curse  and  an  in- 
supportable burden  of  guilt  upon  him  ? 

And  yet  that  one  spot  of  earth  was  sacred  to 
memories  of  all  that  had  been  purest,  most  peace- 
ful and  happy  in  his  blighted  life.  Ought  such  a 
refuge  of  light  to  be  denied  to  him,  even  if  a 
thousand  curses  had  descended  upon  his  head  from 
the  outer  darkness  ? 

Almost  against  his  will  his  footsteps  took  the 
road  to  the  village.  It  was  reposing  peacefully. 
Only  from  the  windows  of  the  Black  Eagle  a  ruddy 
glow  was  cast  on  the  white  expanse  of  snow.  The 
clock  in  the  church  tower  struck  one.  He  must 
have  been  tramping  about  for  five  hours,  and  it 
seemed  like  five  minutes.  Faint  moonbeams  shone 
on  the  sleigh-ruts,  which  looked  like  long  white  rib- 
bons unrolled  on  the  ground,  and  the  mass  of  icicles 
hanging  from  the  church  roof  spread  a  delicate  silver 
filigree  on  the  dark,  time-stained  walls. 


256     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

He  passed  the  church  and  came  to  the  parsonage 
garden.  There  was  a  light  in  one  of  the  gable 
windows.  His  heart  seemed  to  bound  into  his 
throat.  He  swung  himself  over  the  hedge,  and 
strode  through  the  deep  snow  to  the  summer-house, 
which  stood  at  a  distance  of  twenty  paces  from  the 
gable.  In  its  shadow  he  took  up  his  position. 

A  white  curtain  was  drawn  across  the  illuminated 
casement.  On  the  surface  of  the  chintz  a  delicate 
tracery  of  leaves  and  stalks  was  reflected  from 
flower-pots  inside.  There  was  her  virgin  paradise ; 
there  she  ruled  as  modestly  and  sweetly  as  the 
Madonna  in  her  rose-garden. 

And  again  the  picture  in  the  cathedral  rose  before 
his  mental  eyes,  as  it  always  did  when  he  tried 
to  realise  the  presence  of  the  beloved.  Oh !  for 
one  second  in  which  to  feast  his  bodily  eye  on  that 
dear,  forgotten  face,  so  that  what  time  and  guilt 
had  deadened  in  him  might  revive  and  live  anew ! 

For  a  moment  the  outline  of  a  girl's  figure 
darkened  the  illuminated  window-pane.  A  corner 
of  the  curtain  was  lifted. 

Instinctively  he  stretched  out  his  arms.  The 
curtain  dropped  quickly,  and  a  moment  afterwards 
the  light  within  was  extinguished. 

He  waited,  hardly  daring  to  draw  a  breath,  for  a 
sign  from  the  darkened  spot.  But  none  came.  All 
was  motionless  and  still. 

"  It  is  madness  to  think  of  it ! "  he  said  to  himself. 
"  Probably  she  didn't  recognise  you.  She  only  saw 
a  man's  figure  that  gave  her  a  fright.  Make  haste ! 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     257 

For  the  whole  house  will  be  roused  and  turned  out 
to  hunt  the  supposed  thief." 

So  he  retraced  his  steps.  In  turning  into  the 
street  he  was  conscious  that  his  blood  was  flowing 
more  calmly,  and  his  pulses  not  throbbing  so  fiercely. 
Being  in  her  neighbourhood  even  for  a  few  minutes 
had  soothed  him. 

"  Where  now  ?  "  Anywhere  in  the  world,  but  not 
home.  At  the  bare  thought  of  that  outstretched  figure 
on  the  floor,  his  veins  began  to  pulsate  again  with 
violence.  Oh,  she  was  a  fiend,  and  he  hated  her ! 

He  took  a  side  path,  not  knowing  where  it  led.  It 
was  divided  from  the  Castle  island  by  stables  and 
carters'  huts,  and  ended  in  an  open  field.  On  the 
opposite  side,  he  saw  the  indigo  belt  of  woods  that 
encircled  the  flat  white  plains.  The  woods  drew 
him  towards  them  again  like  a  magnet.  There  he 
would  hide,  in  their  majestic  depths  where  the  peace 
of  winter  reigned  and  slept  its  mysterious  dreamless 
slumber. 

He  trod  the  pathless  field  covered  with  hills  and 
dales  of  snow  which  swept  away  before  him  like  the 
billows  of  a  boundless  ocean  of  liquid  light.  His 
feet  crunched  through  the  frozen  crust  till  he  sank 
to  his  knees,  and  then  it  needed  all  his  powers  to 
step  forwards  once  more.  But  with  strenuous  effort 
he  ploughed  his  way,  still  taking  flight  from  his  own 
thoughts.  There  was  something  almost  comforting 
in  this  objectless  striving.  His  lungs  fought  for 
breath ;  moisture  poured  from  every  pore  of  his  body 
as  he  plunged  and  stumbled  on.  Here  and  there 

R 


258     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

the  crust  was  strong  enough  to  bear  him,  and  then 
he  felt  as  if  he  had  been  endowed  with  wings  and 
floated  over  the  ground,  till  another  crash  laid  him 
low,  grovelling  on  his  hands  and  knees. 

Now  the  wall  of  woods  rose  higher  and  darker 
before  him ;  ...  he  was  only  a  hundred  steps  from 
his  goal,  when  his  eye  was  arrested  by  something  in 
the  shape  of  a  hillock  extending  a  distance  of  about 
fifty  or  sixty  feet  in  the  direction  of  the  wood. 
Coming  nearer,  he  saw  it  was  too  regular  in  form 
for  a  hillock,  and  its  corners  too  sharply  defined.  A 
few  feet  off  there  was  a  second  mound  of  the  same 
description,  and  to  the  left  again,  a  third.  They 
must  be  gravel  heaps,  he  thought,  that  had  been 
dug  up  in  the  autumn  and  left  to  be  removed  till 
after  the  thaw  set  in.  Why  should  the  peasants 
not  get  gravel  from  his  property  when  there  was  no 
one  to  prevent  them  ? 

But  what  did  those  crosses  mean,  that  stood  out 
so  solemnly  and  eerily  in  the  night,  at  the  foot  of 
each  mound  ?  At  first  he  had  not  noticed  them  against 
the  dark  background  of  the  woods.  They  were 
three  in  number.  Roughly  hewn  out  of  fir  trunks, 
they  were  so  firmly  planted  in  the  earth,  that  they 
did  not  move  a  hair's-breadth  when  he  shook  them. 
They  bore  no  inscription,  and  if  they  had,  he  would 
not  have  been  able  to  read  it.  Inscrutable  as  memo- 
rials of  forgotten  misfortune,  they  stood  ranged  there 
in  the  dim  moonlight  like  rugged  sentinels. 

And  then  the  mystery  was  solved.  He  saw  what 
they  were.  With  a  loud  cry  he  dropped  his  face  in 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     259 

his  hands.  He  had  stumbled  on  the  graves  of  the 
men  who  had  fallen  on  that  accursed  night  in  the 
year  '7.  Here  lay  the  bones  of  his  father's  victims. 
What  evil  chance  had  led  him  here  to-night  ?  Or 
was  it  chance  ?  Had  not  a  thousand  invisible  arms 
beckoned  him  cajolingly  and  irresistibly  along  this 
maniacal  route,  and  let  him  fight  his  way  through 
snow  and  ice,  till  he  was  ready  to  faint  from  ex- 
haustion ?  It  seemed  as  though  fate  had  kept  in 
reserve  the  most  excruciating  lash  of  her  scourge 
till  this  hour  of  his  bitterest  humiliation;  so  that 
he  should  no  longer  be  in  doubt  as  to  there  being 
any  salvation  in  store  for  him,  and  to  demonstrate 
once  for  all  that  he  was  doomed  to  sink  for  ever 
under  the  weight  of  shame  and  despair. 

"  But  it  is  well  that  I  came,"  he  said,  conversing 
with  himself;  "  where  better  can  I  convince  myself 
that  the  old  pastor's  curse  was  not  unjust — and  that 
what  was  not  a  sin,  has  become  one  ?  " 

His  eyes  wandered  over  the  row  of  flattened  graves, 
and  now  there  seemed  no  end  to  them.  ...  How 
many  were  buried  there  ?  If  they  had  been  closely 
packed,  a  hundred  or  more  might  rest  in  each  grave — 
or  perhaps  even  double  that  number.  And  they  had 
all  been  brave  soldiers  who  had  left  their  homes  gaily, 
in  light-hearted  devotion  to  fight  for  King  and  Father- 
land. .  .  .  Through  foulest  treachery  they  had  been 
butchered  here  in  cold  blood,  under  cover  of  night. 

He  clung  to  one  of  the  crosses,  and  held  his  face 
so  tightly  against  the  rough  wood  that  splints  dug 
into  his  flesh. 


260     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"  Arraign  him  before  the  whole  world ! "  some- 
thing cried  within  him — "  him  and  her — and  then 
go  with  her  to  perdition." 

He  gazed  at  the  distant  prospect,  and  sought 
the  outline  of  the  ruins  against  the  horizon.  But 
nothing  was  visible  except  the  tall  trees  that  crowned 
the  park,  which  were  only  dimly  discernible.  A 
little  behind  to  the  right  of  them  lay  the  Cats' 
Bridge. 

He  could  fancy  her  emerging  from  those  trees 
with  the  troop  of  remorselessly  cruel  Frenchmen 
following  her,  bent  on  their  work  of  blood.  How 
terrible  must  the  regular  echo  of  their  marching 
feet  have  sounded  in  her  ears.  Deeper  and  deeper 
into  the  wood  they  must  have  gone,  till  they  reached 
that  ravine  which  ran  parallel  with  the  thicket,  al- 
most in  a  half-circle.  She  had  never  told  him  the 
road  she  had  taken,  but  he  saw  exactly  how  it  had 
all  happened.  Everything  was  as  plain  as  if  he  had 
been  there  himself  and  seen  it  with  his  own  eyes. 

He  stretched  out  his  arm,  and  with  a  trembling 
finger  traced  the  path  against  the  horizon. 

And  afterwards  when  they  let  her  go,  and  she 
had  made  her  way  home  alone,  with  the  wages  of 
her  sin  in  her  pocket — how  the  cracking  of  bullets, 
the  beating  of  drums,  the  clouds  of  gunpowder,  the 
death-shrieks  of  the  massacred,  must  have  followed 
her,  galloping  at  her  heels  like  an  army  of  furies ! 

How  she  had  gone  on  living  with  those  awful 
sounds  ringing  in  her  head,  those  ghastly  pictures 
floating  before  her  eyes,  he  could  not  understand. 


THE  SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS     261 

If  he  had  been  in  her  place  he  would  have  sought 
instant  deliverance  in  the  first  halter  or  pond  that 
came  handy. 

But  not  she !  Visions  were  no  terror  to  her. 
Her  conscience,  instead  of  tormenting  itself,  was 
apparently  scarcely  conscious  of  its  guilt.  She 
had  only  the  feelings  of  an  animal  or  a  demon. 
He  shuddered.  And  it  was  to  her,  her,  that  he  had 
been  on  the  brink  of  succumbing ! 

Then  in  his  sore  distress  he  flung  himself  across 
the  grave,  face  downwards  in  the  snow,  folded  his 
hands  and  stammered  forth  an  incoherent  prayer, 
while  tears  gushed  from  his  eyes. 

The  intense  cold  of  his  exposed  position  stung 
his  face,  and  drove  him  to  stand  up  again.  He 
patrolled  the  row  of  graves,  unable  to  evolve  a  single 
rational  thought.  He  felt  as  if  he  were  caught  in  a 
brazen  net,  that  was  drawing  its  meshes  tighter  and 
tighter  around  him. 

"  God  in  Heaven,"  he  cried  aloud,  "  visit  not  the 
sins  of  the  fathers  on  me  !  Let  the  dead  sleep.  .  .  . 
/  have  not  murdered  them.  Let  something  happen, 
a  miracle,  a  sign,  that  I  may  be  shown  that 
Thou  wilt  not  have  me  perish  in  this  anguish  of 
despair."  He  cast  his  eye  round  him  as  if  looking 
for  help. 

But  coldly  and  unsympathetically  the  moonlit, 
lead-coloured  sky  looked  down  on  him.  There  was 
no  sign,  no  miracle. 

He  laughed.  "You  are  becoming  imbecile/'  he 
murmured  inwardly. 


262     THE  SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

An  unspeakable  exhaustion  overwhelmed  him. 
He  reeled,  and  his  feet  gave  way  beneath  him. 
The  next  moment  he  was  sitting  in  the  cavity 
which  the  weight  of  his  prostrate  figure  had  made 
in  the  snow.  He  drew  up  the  collar  of  his  coat, 
and  nearly  frozen,  brooded  on,  half  sleeping,  half 
waking. 

When  he  rose  with  cramped  limbs,  happy  to 
have  escaped  falling  asleep  and  being  frozen  to 
death,  one  thin  purple  streak  had  appeared  in  the 
eastern  sky.  An  ague,  hot  and  cold  at  the  same 
time,  like  the  beginning  of  fever,  shook  his  frame. 

Now  there  was  nothing  for  it,  but  to  go  home. 
But  where  was  he  to  find  the  strength  necessary  to 
obliterate  for  ever  from  his  mind  what  had  happened 
in  the  night  that  was  over  at  last  ?  His  tongue 
instinctively  felt  for  his  lip.  .  .  .  The  wound  left  by 
the  impress  of  her  kiss  burned  there  still. 

And  there  had  been  no  sign  from  Heaven,  no 
miracle.  One  course  only  remained  that  might  save 
him  from  the  worst,  and  that  was  death. 

Death !  The  thought  came  to  him  like  a  ray  of 
light  in  the  darkness,  yet  his  brain  was  too  weary, 
his  soul  too  dispirited  for  him  to  grasp  it,  and  it 
died  out  as  quickly  as  it  had  come. 

In  his  own  footprints  he  walked  back  to  the 
village.  No  one  was  stirring  out  of  doors,  but  here 
and  there  a  chimney  smoked,  and  a  cock  from  his 
perch  crowed  a  greeting  to  the  new-born  day. 

As  he  took  the  path  down  to  the  river,  he  thought 
he  saw  the  fleeting  shadow  of  a  woman's  figure 


THE   SINS    OF  THE    FATHERS     263 

nurrying  from  the  drawbridge.  Perhaps  it  was 
Regina,  who  after  long  waiting  and  watching  had 
now  come  to  meet  him. 

But  no !  Regina  was  not  so  slim  and  dainty. 
Who  in  all  the  village  could  want  to  come  to  the 
drawbridge  at  this  unearthly  hour  ?  His  heart  beat 
fast.  He  had  been  seen.  A  soft,  squealing  sound 
fell  on  the  air,  and  the  next  instant  the  figure  had 
vanished  down  a  bypath.  He  did  not  think  of 
following  her.  It  might  possibly  be  a  dairymaid 
who  had  been  taking  a  morning  dip,  and  was  shy  of 
meeting  him ;  but  on  coming  to  the  drawbridge 
he  saw  footmarks  on  the  freshly  fallen  hoarfrost, 
and  these  came  to  an  end  at  the  pillar  to  which  the 
letter-box  was  fixed. 

Who  could  be  his  nocturnal  correspondent?  It 
was  ridiculous,  yet  a  flood  of  hope  suffused  his 
soul. 

He  snatched  the  little  key,  that  he  always  carried 
about  with  him,  from  his  pocket.  The  box  opened 
— a  letter  fell  out. 

He  broke  the  seal  with  shaking  fingers.  Helene's 
signature !  Had  God  heard  his  petition  ?  Had  He 
after  all  sent  him  fresh  strength  for  the  struggle, 
and  deliverance  ? 

The  dawn  gave  him  sufficient  light  to  read  by, 
but  the  lines  danced  before  his  eyes.  Only  here 
and  there  he  drank  in  a  broken  sentence  or  a  single 
word — "Wait  patiently."  "The  hour  when  I  sum- 
mon you  to  come  to  me."  "Longing."  "Child- 
hood's days."  "  Happy." 


264     THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

And  one  thing  that  was  not  written  there  at  all 
he  could  read  distinctly.  The  sign  that  he  had 
prayed  for  by  the  grave  of  the  warriors  had  fallen 
from  Heaven.  The  miracle  had  happened ! 

Renewed  confidence  in  himself  possessed  him. 
He  was  not  forsaken ;  he  need  not  yet  despair  of 
his  better  self.  This  pure,  bright  angel,  the  good 
genius  of  his  youth,  was  still  faithful,  still  believed 
in  him.  Her  trust  should  not  be  abused.  Rather 
die  than,  through  despising  himself,  bring  her  to 
feeling  shame  at  her  faith  in  him. 

He  turned  his  face  towards  the  purple  morning 
glow,  and,  raising  his  hand  solemnly,  uttered  the 
following  words : — 

"  God,  who  art  a  great  and  just  Judge,  and 
visitest  the  sins  of  the  fathers  on  the  children  to  the 
third  and  fourth  generation,  I  hereby  swear  to  take 
my  life  with  my  own  hand  rather  than  let  the 
curse  of  Thy  priest  gain  ascendency  over  me. 
Amen." 

Then  he  walked  towards  the  house  as  if  freed 
from  an  intolerable  burden. 

"  Now  the  devil  is  exorcised ! "  he  said  as  he 
entered  the  vestibule,  heaving  a  deep  sigh  of  relief; 
nevertheless,  the  hand  that  lifted  the  latch  still 
trembled  feverishly. 

He  surveyed  the  room  with  one  quick  shy  glance. 

In  the  rosy  light  of  dawn  he  saw  her  crouching, 
dressed  on  her  bed,  her  hands  clasped  over  her 
knees.  Her  jacket  was  open ;  her  hair  hung  about 
her  face  in  tangled  masses.  Her  dress  was 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     265 

exactly  as  it  had  been  when  he  left  her  the  evening 
before. 

She  raised  her  head  slowly,  and  gazed  at  him  as 
if  in  a  dream  with  soft  melting  eyes. 

He  shrank  before  that  gaze. 

"  Haven't  you  been  to  bed  ?  "  he  asked  in  as  harsh 
a  tone  as  he  could  command. 

She  continued  to  look  at  him  with  the  same  bliss- 
fully rigid  expression,  and  said  nothing. 

"  Didn't  you  hear  ?  "  he  asked  again  imperiously. 

She  did  not  start  as  she  used  to  do  when  he 
spoke  thus;  but  a  scarcely  perceptible  vibration 
passed  through  her  frame,  as  if  the  sound  of  his 
voice  filled  her  with  ecstasy.  She  smiled  a  little. 

"  Hear  what  ?  "  she  asked. 

"My  question  as  to  why  you  hadn't  been  to 
bed." 

"  I  waited  up  for  you,  Herr" 

"  I  did  not  order  you  to  wait  for  me." 

"  Nor  did  you  forbid  me,  Herr? 

He  clung  to  the  back  of  a  chair. 

"Why  are  you  afraid  of  her?"  he  asked  him- 
self. "You  have  just  sworn  that  danger  exists 
no  longer." 

Then  to  get  rid  of  her  he  told  her  to  go  and 
prepare  him  something  hot  for  breakfast. 

She  rose  deliberately,  stretching  her  stiff  limbs. 
A  dreamy  languor  seemed  to  pervade  her  whole 
being.  Since  last  night  she  was  completely  trans- 
formed. 

Directly  he  had  shut  the  door  after  her,  he  tore 


266     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

the  letter  from  his  pocket,  and  read  it  to  reassure 
himself  of    's  happiness.     It  ran: — 

"DEAR  FRIEND  OF  MY  YOUTH, — I  hear  from 
papa  that  you  have  been  highly  honoured  by  our 
wise  and  noble  King — that  he  has  made  you  cap- 
tain of  your  division,  and  given  you  the  Iron  Cross. 
I  congratulate  you  heartily,  and  am  rejoiced  at  your 
good  fortune.  What  else  passed  papa  wouldn't  tell 
me,  but  he  was  very  excited  about  it,  and  in  a 
great  rage  when  he  mentioned  you.  Ah !  if  only 
you  could  have  managed  to  win  his  affection  and 
the  goodwill  of  the  parishioners !  Then  I  shouldn't 
have  to  be  so  careful,  and  could  see  and  speak  to 
you  often.  .  .  .  Dear  Boleslav,  I  implore  you  never 
to  think  of  coming  into  the  garden  again. 

"  You  know  papa — what  he  is  ;  and  if  he  found 
out — ah !  I  believe  he  would  kill  me !  Wait 
patiently,  my  dear  friend !  The  Bible  says,  you 
know,  patience  shall  be  rewarded.  So  have 
patience  till  the  hour  when  I  shall  summon  you  to 
come  to  me ;  then  I  will  tell  you  all  the  news. 
How  full  of  longing  I  am  to  see  you !  Oh,  those 
lovely  days  of  childhood !  What  has  become  of 
them  ?  How  happy  I  was  then ! — Your 

"  HELENE. 

"  Postscript. — Never  come  to  the  garden  again.  I 
will  appoint  another  place  of  meeting.  Not  in  the 
garden." 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     267 

Strange,  that  what  a  few  minutes  before  had  filled 
him  with  delight  now  seemed  flat  and  colourless, 
and  disappointed  him.  Doubtless  the  half-wild  crea- 
ture was  to  blame,  whose  close  proximity  confused 
his  judgment.  A  kind  of  delirium  of  bliss  seemed 
to  have  taken  possession  of  her.  And  how  she  had 
smiled !  how  strangely  she  had  stared  into  space ! 

She  came  back  into  the  room,  and  moved  about  it 
like  a  somnambulist. 

"  Regina ! " 

She  half  closed  her  lids,  and  said,  "  Yes,  Herr" 

"What's  the  matter  with  you  ?" 

She  smilingly  shook  her  head.  "  Nothing,  Herr" 
she  answered,  and  again  that  look  came  into  her 
eyes ;  they  seemed  to  swim  in  dreamful  contempla- 
tion of  some  infinite  felicity. 

He  felt  his  throat  contract.  Clearly  there  was 
still  reason  to  be  afraid  of  himself. 

Then  he  resolved  to  speak  and  listen  to  her  no 
more,  but  to  live  in  his  work.  He  immersed  himself 
in  his  papers  again,  sorted  and  laid  aside  important 
documents,  filed,  registered,  and  made  copies  of  them. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  he  must  get  everything  in  order 
in  anticipation  of  some  pending  catastrophe. 

So  the  day  went  by,  and  the  evening.  Regina 
crouched  in  the  darkest  and  remotest  corner  she 
could  find  and  remained  motionless.  He  dared 
not  cast  even  a  glance  in  her  direction.  The  blood 
hammered  in  his  temples,  yellow  circles  danced 
before  his  eyes,  every  nerve  in  his  body  was  on 
edge  from  over-fatigue. 


268     THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS 

On  the  stroke  of  ten  she  rose,  murmured  good- 
night, and  disappeared  behind  her  curtain.  He 
neither  answered  nor  looked  up. 

At  eleven  he  put  out  the  lights  and  went  to 
bed  too. 

"  Why  does  your  heart  beat  like  this  ?  "  he  thought 
"  Remember  your  oath."  But  the  superstitious, 
indefinable  dread  of  coming  disaster  haunted  him 
like  a  ghost  in  the  darkness. 

He  got  up  again,  and  stole  with  bare  feet  across 
the  room  to  the  case  of  weapons,  that  was  dimly 
illumined  by  the  newly-risen  moon.  He  caught  up 
one  of  his  pistols,  which  he  always  kept  loaded  to 
be  forearmed  against  unforeseen  events.  It  had 
been  his  faithful  friend  and  protector  in  many  a 
bloody  fray.  To-day  it  should  protect  him  from 
himself.  With  its  trigger  cocked,  he  laid  it  on  the 
small  table  by  his  bedside. 

"It's  doubtful  whether  you  sleep  a  wink  now," 
he  said,  as  he  nestled  his  head  on  the  pillows. 
Yet  scarcely  three  seconds  later  he  lost  conscious- 
ness, and  slumber  lapped  his  tired  limbs. 

»...»• 

A  curious  dream  recalled  him  from  profoundest 
sleep  into  a  half-dozing  wakefulness.  He  fancied 
he  saw  two  bright  eyes  like  a  panther's  glittering  at 
him  out  of  the  darkness.  They  were  only  a  few 
inches  from  his  face,  and  seemed  to  be  fixed  on  it 
with  fiery  earnestness,  as  if  with  the  intention  of 
bringing  him  under  the  spell  of  their  enchantment. 

His   breath  came   slower,  almost  stopped,  then 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     269 

he  felt  another  breath  well  over  him  in  full  soft 
waves. 

It  was  no  dream  after  all,  for  his  eyes  were  wide 
open.  The  moon  cast  a  patch  of  light  on  the 
counterpane  of  his  bed,  and  still  those  other  lights 
glowed  on,  devouring  him  with  their  fire.  The 
outline  of  a  face  was  visible.  A  woman's  white 
figure  bent  over  him. 

A  thrill  of  mingled  pleasure  and  alarm  ran 
through  his  body. 

"  Regina,"  he  murmured. 

Then  she  sank  on  her  knees  by  the  bed  and 
covered  his  hands  with  kisses  and  tears.  In  the 
enervation  that  had  crept  over  him  he  would  have 
stroked  the  black  tresses  which  streamed  across 
the  pillow,  only  he  lacked  the  strength  to  extricate 
his  hands  from  hers. 

Then — "  Your  oath,  think  of  your  oath ! "  a  voice 
cried  within  him. 

In  dismay,  he  started  up.  Not  yet  fully  awake, 
he  reeled  forwards,  and  tearing  his  hands  out  of 
her  grasp,  fumbled  for  the  pistol. 

"You,  or  her." 

There  was  a  report.  Regina,  with  a  cry  of  pain, 
fell  with  her  forehead  against  the  edge  of  the  bed, 
and  at  the  same  moment  a  great  rumbling  and 
crackling  was  heard  from  the  opposite  wall.  The 
portrait  of  his  beautiful  grandmother  had  crashed 
to  the  ground. 

He  stared  wildly  round  him,  only  just  arriving 
at  complete  consciousness. 


270     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"  Are  you  wounded  ?  "  he  asked,  laying  his  hand 
gently  on  the  dark  head. 

"I — don't — know,  Herr"  and  then  she  glided 
across  the  floor  to  her  mattress. 

He  dressed  himself  and  kindled  a  light.  It  now 
all  appeared  a  confused  nightmare. 

Ah !  but  if  she  died,  if  he  had  killed  her  ? 

When  he  drew  aside  the  curtain,  he  beheld  her 
cowering  and  shivering  in  her  corner,  holding  up 
the  counterpane  in  her  teeth.  It  was  smeared  with 
blood. 

"For  God's  sake — show  me.  Where  were  you 
hit  ?  "  he  cried. 

She  let  the  counterpane  drop  as  far  as  her  breast, 
and  silently  offered  her  naked  shoulder  for  his  in- 
spection. Blood  was  streaming  from  it. 

But  the  first  glance  satisfied  him,  the  connoisseur 
in  wounds,  that  it  was  a  mere  surface  shot.  It 
would  heal  of  itself  in  a  few  days. 

"  Thank  God !     Thank  God ! " 

She  stared  up  at  him  absently  with  wide  eyes. 

"It  is  nothing,"  he  stammered.  "A  scratch — 
nothing  more." 

She  appeared  not  to  hear  what  he  said. 

"  Pull  yourself  together  like  a  man.  Not  a  word, 
not  a  look,  must  betray  your  real  feelings." 

With  this  self- exhortation  he  withdrew,  and 
wearily  put  down  the  light  on  the  table. 

What  now  ?  Where  should  he  go  ?  To  stay 
meant  ruin  and  damnation. 

This  very  hour  he  must  go  away.    Away !  Some- 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      271 

wl/ere,  anywhere,  so  long  as  a  barrier  of  his 
fellow-creatures  separated  him  from  her  for  ever- 
more. And  in  breathless  haste  he  began  to  gather 
together  papers  that  proved  his  father's  guilt,  as 
if  they  were  the  most  precious  possessions  in  the 
world. 


CHAPTER  XV 

MORE  than  three  months  had  passed  away  since 
Boleslav  von  Schranden  had  turned  his  back  on  the 
inheritance  of  his  fathers. 

In  the  meantime  spring  had  come.  Moss, 
starred  with  anemones,  grew  amongst  the  short- 
bladed  grass ;  the  ditches  were  full  of  a  luxuriant 
growth  of  bindweed  and  nettles ;  and  at  every 
breeze  the  boughs  rained  a  shower  of  crumbling 
catkins.  The  plough  left  a  trail  of  smooth,  black 
furrows  on  the  bosom  of  the  awakening  earth,  and 
seed-cloths  were  already  being  put  out  to  air. 

It  was  the  first  spring  for  many  and  many  a  long 
year  that  had  begun  in  peace,  and  of  which  there 
were  hopes  of  its  ending  in  peace. 

Europe's  evil  genius  was  vanquished.  Like 
Prometheus  he  lay  chained  to  his  barren  sea-girt 
rock ;  and  so  the  sword  was  hung  up  to  rust, 
and  the  ploughshare  and  harrow  resumed  their 
sway. 

What  had  taken  place  on  the  shores  of  the  Medi- 
terranean in  the  month  of  March,  the  inhabitants 
of  quiet  country  towns  and  out-of-the-way  moorland 
villages  had  as  yet  no  suspicion.  Not  a  breath  had 
reached  them  of  that  interrupted  quadrille  at  Prince 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     273 

Metternich's  ball,  of  the  fury  and  consternation 
of  sovereigns  and  potentates ;  they  knew  nothing  of 
foam-bespattered  proscriptions  issued  against  the 
escaped  rebel,  of  re-arming  and  rumours  of  war. 

The  lark's  carolling  in  the  sky  seemed  a  jocund 
invitation  to  resume  labour  in  the  fields ,  the  womb 
of  the  earth  opened  with  yearning  for  the  crops  from 
which  it  had  fasted  so  long. 

One  day  towards  the  end  of  April,  a  curious 
regiment  was  seen  on  the  king's  highroad  ap- 
proaching the  county  town  of  Warten  stein,  which 
excited  the  wondering  interest  of  all  whom  they 
passed  by  the  way. 

It  was  not  easy  to  decide  at  once  whether  they 
were  soldiers  or  workmen.  Most  of  them  were 
armed,  but  side  by  side  with  the  gun  on  their 
shoulders  was  a  spade,  and  from  the  red  bundles 
slung  across  their  backs  peeped  whetstones  and 
scythe-blades.  Ten  or  twelve  of  them  were  mounted, 
but  behind  came  as  baggage  a  stream  of  rough 
waggons,  composed  of  about  twenty  axle  wheels, 
loaded  with  bursting  sacks  of  corn  and  implements 
of  every  description.  Altogether  the  regiment  num- 
bered about  a  hundred  and  fifty,  marching  in  half 
military  fashion  in  double  file.  It  consisted  of  mus- 
cular youths,  for  the  most  part  fair  and  of  ruddy 
complexions,  with  thickset  figures.  Their  faces  were 
broad  and  bony,  not  German,  and  still  less  Polish, 
in  type.  They  spoke  a  language  unknown  in  the 
neighbourhood,  and  sang  songs  of  which  no  one 
knew  the  tune  Notwithstanding,  their  leader  was 

S 


274      THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

German,  and  so  was  the  discipline  which  had  trained 
their  limbs  and  given  to  their  movements  a  certain 
dignity  of  bearing. 

At  the  head  of  the  procession  rode  one  to  whom 
they  looked  up  with  awe  and  affection,  and  whose 
brief  and  not  unfriendly  words  of  command  they 
obeyed  with  almost  childlike  zeal.  It  was  Boleslav, 
who  came  with  this  little  army  to  reconquer  his  own 
territory. 

He  had  recruited  it  far  away  in  the  Lithuanian 
East,  on  the  remotest  border  of  the  province,  whither 
neither  good  nor  evil  reports  of  the  name  of  Schran- 
den  had  ever  penetrated.  During  his  five  years'  pre- 
vious intercourse  with  this  people,  he  had  become 
intimately  acquainted  with  their  habits  and  customs, 
and  took  care  to  choose  his  pioneers  from  those  who 
had  been  in  the  war,  and  become  accustomed  to  the 
rigours  of  a  soldier's  life,  but  who  were  still  unfa- 
miliar enough  with  the  German  tongue  to  have  their 
minds  poisoned  by  the  Schrandeners'  gossip. 

Now  he  had  every  hope  that  the  fate  of  his  father, 
who  had  failed  to  find  either  serf  or  labourer  to  bind 
himself  to  work  for  him,  would  not  be  his.  And 
should  the  Schrandeners  offer  fight  to  these  work- 
people, as  they  had  done  to  the  Polish  serfs  whom 
his  father  had  been  obliged  to  call  to  his  assistance, 
so  much  the  worse  for  the  Schrandeners ;  they  would 
only  be  sent  home  with  bleeding  noses. 

In  proud  self-reliance  he  looked  coming  events  in 
the  face.  He  would  willingly  have  returned  home 
earlier,  only,  to  proscute  his  enterprise  on  the  scale 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     275 

it  demanded,  he  was  forced  to  wait  till  the  time  in 
which  he  could  claim  his  aunt's  legacy,  and  so  have 
the  necessary  means  at  his  disposal. 

He  had  lived  through  hard  times  since  that 
January  night,  when,  to  flee  the  coercion  of  his  hot 
young  blood,  he  had  dashed  out  into  the  snow-clad, 
moon-illumined  landscape,  followed  by  the  cries  of 
the  unhappy  woman  who  could  not  understand  what 
ailed  him. 

It  was  long  before  the  furnace  within  him  abated, 
and  her  beseeching,  frightened  eyes  became  dimmer 
in  his  memory.  In  Konigsberg,  where  he  had  gone 
direct  from  home,  he  had  meditated  obtaining,  through 
boldly  seeking  a  trial,  that  justice  long  denied  to  his 
house.  But  though  the  cross  on  his  breast  compelled 
the  doors  that  had  been  shut  on  his  father  to  open  to 
him,  the  polite  shrug  of  the  shoulders  with  which 
the  judges  promised  to  see  what  could  be  done,  and 
then  coolly  referred  him  to  one  Court  of  Appeal 
after  another,  taught  him  that  the  passionate  self- 
surrender  he  had  dreamed  of  would  be  here  ill-timed 
and  out  of  place. 

So  he  again  packed  up  his  father's  correspondence, 
which  of  his  own  free  will  he  had  desired  to  make 
public  in  order  to  clear  up  every  shadow  of  mystery, 
and  felt  he  must  keep  it  till  a  more  favourable  op- 
portunity offered  itself.  Besides,  he  had  destroyed 
too  much  that  might  have  had  a  vindicating  effect, 
and  to  court  the  risk  of  his  own  condemnation  might 
after  all  be  acting  unfairly  to  his  father's  memory. 

Contact  with  the  outer  world  cooled  and  damped 


276     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

in  a  singular  way  his  ardour;  and  the  feverish 
tension  of  his  emotions  gradually  relaxed,  giving 
place  to  a  more  normal  state  of  mind.  He  was 
confronted  with  reasoning  instead  of  anathemas, 
courteous  words  instead  of  threats — and  this  worked 
a  soothing  and  beneficial  influence  on  his  nature. 
He  projected  plans,  and  prepared  himself  with  com- 
posure and  deliberation  for  what  the  future  might 
have  in  store  for  him. 

At  the  same  time  the  magic  fascination  the  wild 
girl  had  exercised  on  him  was  becoming  dimmer 
in  his  recollection.  Every  new  face,  every  new 
thought,  alienated  him  further  from  her.  Gradually 
he  ceased  to  reproach  himself  for  having  acted  with 
merciless  cruelty  towards  her,  and  the  mastery  she 
had  acquired  over  his  senses  was  now  incompre- 
hensible to  him.  Nevertheless,  often  when  he  sat 
alone  at  dusk  in  his  private  room  at  the  hostelry,  he 
saw  those  eyes  again  flashing  soft  fire,  and  felt  her 
presence  thrill  through  his  veins.  Then  it  seemed  as 
if  the  scar,  that  furrowed  horizontally  his  under  lip, 
began  to  burn  like  an  inflammatory  record  of  that 
kiss,  the  only  one  that  the  lips  of  a  woman  had  ever 
imprinted  on  his,  for  his  shy  and  reserved  manner 
had  all  his  life  repelled,  and  kept  women  at  a  distance. 
At  such  times  his  whole  existence  seemed  compressed 
into  that  one  moment's  ecstasy.  But  of  course  this 
was  only  a  freak,  illusive  reverie  played  his  senses, 
which  lamplight  and  work  soon  dispelled. 

He  had  written  to  her  once  or  twice  in  order  to 
set  her  mind  at  rest  on  the  subject  of  his  sudden 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     277 

departure,  or  rather  flight — had  asked  for  an  answer, 
and  promised  a  speedy  return. 

Once  he  had  had  news  of  her — a  letter  written 
in  bold  characters  and  correctly  expressed.  After 
all  these  years  of  bondage,  the  lessons  she  had 
learnt  in  the  old  pastor's  school  still  evidently  stood 
her  in  good  stead. 

In  prospect  of  his  near  approach  to  his  home,  he 
drew  the  sheet  from  his  pocket,  and  read  sitting  in 
the  saddle  the  lines,  which,  in  spite  of  himself,  he 
almost  knew  by  heart. 

"MY  DEAR  MASTER, — Don't  be  anxious  on  my 
account.  No  one  will  do  anything  to  me.  They 
do  not  know  down  in  the  village  that  you  are  gone 
away,  and  they  are  frightened  of  the  wolf-traps,  for 
no  one  has  told  them  that  we  cleared  them  away. 
Every  night  I  see  to  the  pistols  and  guns  in  case 
they  should  come;  but  they  won't  come.  As  for 
the  wound,  I  have  quite  forgotten  it.  The  grocer 
at  Bockeldorf  gave  me  some  English  sticking-plaster, 
and  when  it  peeled  off,  it  was  entirely  healed.  The 
thaw  and  floods  are  now  over,  thank  God.  For 
several  days  I  was  obliged  to  go  with  very  little 
food,  because  the  water  was  too  high  on  the 
meadows  for  me  to  wade  through,  and  I  would 
rather  have  died  than  go  down  to  Herr  Merckel. 
Ah !  dear  master,  I  am  so  glad  that  you  are  coming 
home  soon ;  for  I  seem  to  have  nothing  to  live  for, 
when  I  have  not  you  to  wait  upon.  I  climb  up  on 
the  Cats'  Bridge  very  often  and  wait  for  you  there, 


278     THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

so  that  when  you  come  you  shall  not  find  it 
drawn  up.  Please  don't  come  in  the  night,  nor 
on  Thursday  before  seven,  because  then  I  shall 
be  going  to  Bockeldorf.  The  snow  is  all  gone 
now,  and  the  grass  is  beginning  to  get  quite  green. 
Yesterday  I  heard  the  swallows  twittering  in  the 
nest  they  have  built  in  the  eaves;  but  I  haven't 
seen  them  yet.  Now  and  then  I  suffer  from  stitch 
in  my  side,  and  giddiness,  and  I  have  not  much 
appetite.  I  believe  it  comes  from  being  so  much 
alone,  which  I  cannot  bear.  But  I  don't  know  why 
I  should  tell  you  all  this.  Perhaps  it  is  because 
you  were  always  so  kind  to  me.  I  can't  help 
always  remembering  your  great  kindness  to  me. 
— Your  Hochgeboreris  humble  servant, 

REGINA  HACKELBERG." 

This  letter  had  filled  him  with  pleasure  and 
satisfaction,  for  it  showed  on  the  one  hand  that 
she  had  very  reasonably  bowed  to  the  inevitable, 
and  that  there  was  no  cause  for  his  anxiety ;  and 
on  the  other,  that  she  still  faithfully  clung  and 
belonged  to  him  heart  and  soul.  And  glad  as  he 
might  be  to  feel  his  blood  purged  of  the  unwhole- 
some excitement  with  which  she  had  inspired  it,  he 
could  not  help  being  pleased  at  this  proof  of  her 
remaining  ever  his  true  and  willing  servant. 

His  belief  in  Helene's  sacred  influence  on  his 
destiny  had,  he  imagined,  received  a  new  impetus, 
since  her  note  had  saved  him  in  an  hour  of  im- 
minent danger.  He  wore  it  gratefully  as  a  talisman 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     279 

on  his  heart,  even  if  he  did  not  read  it  so  often, 
and  with  such  delight,  as  he  read  Regina's. 

Soon  after  his  arrival  in  the  capital,  an  intense 
yearning  had  drawn  him  to  the  Cathedral,  where 
he  had  sought  out  the  old  altar-piece,  which  con- 
tained her  living  image.  He  experienced  a  bitter 
disappointment  The  Madonna  amidst  her  lilies  and 
roses  appeared  absolutely  ridiculous.  She  looked 
to  him  now  as  if  she  had  been  baked  out  of 
Marzepan,  and  the  flowers,  with  their  stiff  stalks 
and  drooping  heads,  appeared  as  unnatural  and 
insipid  as  their  doll  custodian. 

And  this  was  what  he  had  carried  about  with 
him  for  years,  as  the  facsimile  of  his  beloved ! 
Certainly  it  was  high  time  she  appeared  in  her 
own  person  before  his  bodily  eyes,  otherwise  he 
would  be  in  danger  of  loving  a  mere  phantom. 

And  now,  in  this  the  hour  of  home-coming,  it 
was  not  she  at  all  with  whom  he  looked  forward 
to  a  joyous  meeting;  his  senses  saw  only  the  pic- 
ture of  a  girl  waiting  and  watching  for  him,  whose 
fresh  and  unbounded  loveliness  was  no  myth. 

It  was  early  morning  and  the  sun  was  shining. 
He  had  made  his  last  halt,  the  night  before,  at  a 
hamlet  not  far  from  Wartenstein,  as  he  proposed 
to  pass  rapidly  through  the  town,  to  avoid  being 
gaped  at,  and  exciting  idle  curiosity.  Once  there 
he  was  within  three  miles  and  a  quarter  of  home, 
and  hoped  to  enter  his  native  village  at  the 
hour  for  vespers,  for  his  stalwart  followers  were 
used  to  rapid  marching.  As  he  rode  up  to  the 


280     THE    SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

moss-grown  ramparts,  eight  sounded  from  the 
belfries  of  Wartenstein,  and  he  counted  on  being 
•?,ble  to  quit  the  town  quite  early,  and  so  escape 
awkward  questions. 

Thus,  he  was  little  prepared  for  the  surprises 
awaiting  him  within  its  gates.  The  sentinel,  in- 
stead of  stopping  him  and  demanding  his  passport, 
shouted  up  to  a  window  in  the  gateway  tower — 

"Ring  the  bells!  ring  the  bells!  The  first 
detachment  is  here  !  " 

Then  he  saluted  with  his  pike,  while  a  merry 
peal  clashed  from  the  watch-towers  of  Wartenstein 
to  announce  Boleslav's  arrival. 

"What  can  be  the  meaning  of  it?"  he  asked 
himself,  shaking  his  head;  and  his  astonishment 
increased,  when  on  riding  through  the  streets  he 
found  them  thronged  with  crowds  of  men,  women, 
and  children,  who  waved  their  caps  and  handker- 
chiefs, and  welcomed  him  with  resounding  cheers. 

His  Lithuanians,  who  had  been  accustomed  on 
their  triumphal  marches  to  being  received  every- 
where with  open  arms,  took  the  present  ovation  as 
a  matter  of  course,  and  responded  to  the  hurrahs 
with  lusty  lungs. 

But  to  Boleslav  it  was  plain  that  there  was  some 
misunderstanding,  which  in  the  next  few  minutes 
would  be  explained. 

As  he  entered  the  market-place,  which,  like  the 
streets,  was  filled  with  an  enthusiastic  crowd,  the 
Landrath,  at  the  head  of  an  impressive  procession, 
consisting  of  the  Burgomaster,  Corporation,  and 


THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS     281 

other  magnates  of  the  town,  advanced  to  meet  him. 
He  laid  his  delicate,  bony  hand  on  his  breast, 
and  cleared  his  throat  with  a  rasp,  preparatory  to 
speaking. 

When  he  recognised  Boleslav,  who  had  quickly 
sprung  from  his  horse,  he  drew  back  in  embarrass- 
ment. Nevertheless  he  began — 

"  I  congratulate  you,  Freiherr  von  Schranden,  on 
your  being  the  first  who  has  hastened  here  with 
your  troops " 

"Not  so  fast,  Herr  Landrath"  Boleslav  inter- 
rupted. "There  is  an  error  somewhere.  These 
people  are  workmen,  whom  I  have  recruited  in 
Lithuania  for  domestic  use.  I  am  on  my  way  with 
them  to  Schranden." 

An  amused  smirk  passed  through  the  ranks  of 
the  town  magnates.  They  enjoyed  seeing  the 
Landrath  make  a  fool  of  himself,  even  if  they  them- 
selves were  made  to  look  foolish  in  the  process. 

"And  you  really  haven'f  beard  yet?"  he  stam- 
mered out,  concealing  his  annoyance. 

"  I  have  come  straight  from  the  remotest  corner 
of  Prussia,  Herr  Landrath" 

"You  haven't  heard  that  Napoleon  has  escaped 
from  Elba,  and  that  the  King  has  again  appealed  to 
his  gallant  Prussian  subjects  to  arm  ?  " 

Boleslav  felt  a  rush  of  mingled  horror  a,nd  joy 
flood  his  heart. 

So  once  more  the  world's  history  had  absorbed 
the  solution  of  his  career  in  its  own,  and  he  would 
be  saved  further  self-doubt  and  suspense  with 


282     THL   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

regard  to  it.  His  vast  schemes,  the  work  to  which 
he  was  to  consecrate  his  life,  lay  shattered  at  his 
feet  scarcely  begun,  and  now  ended  perhaps  for 
ever.  But  away  with  all  regrets  and  fears.  Did 
not  the  Fatherland,  his  Fatherland,  call  him  ? 

"  Thank  you,  Herr  Landrath"  he  said,  while  he 
endeavoured  to  still  his  wildly  beating  heart.  "  I 
feel  honoured  at  your  thinking  so  well  of  me  and 
my  contingent  of  Schrandeners.  We  will  prove 
ourselves  worthy  of  your  high  opinion,  and  in  four- 
and-twenty  hours  be  in  readiness." 

The  Landrath  held  out  his  hand.  He  retreated  a 
step  or  two,  and  was  in  the  act  of  repaying  the 
Landrath  in  his  own  coin  for  the  insult  he  had  not 
long  ago  subjected  him  to. 

Then  he  reflected.  The  Fatherland  calls  you,  and 
what  is  your  petty  hate  or  love  weighed  in  the 
balance  ?  And  he  seized  the  bony  hand,  which  its 
owner,  offended,  had  already  withdrawn,  and  shook 
it  heartily. 

Then  he  learnt  further  particulars.  The  evening 
before  the  King's  proclamation,  dated  April  7,  had 
reached  Wartenstein.  All  night  the  administration 
had  been  hard  at  work  getting  the  decrees  ready  for 
local  heads  of  departments,  and  arranging  to  send 
out  special  mounted  messengers  to  distribute  them. 

"  Will  one  be  sent  to  Schranden  ? "  asked 
Boleslav. 

"  Certainly,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Then  may  I  add  a  military  order  ?  " 

"Yes,  if  you  wish." 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     283 

He  tore  a  sheet  of  paper  from  his  pocket-book 
and  hastily  scribbled  the  following  lines : — 

"  At  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  all  troops  liable 
to  service  are  to  muster  in  the  churchyard  square, 
bringing  with  them  accoutrements  and  canteens. 
The  hour  for  marching  will  then  be  stated. 

"VON  SCHRANDEN,  Landwehr  Captain. 

41  To  the  local  administrator." 

"  And  what  will  become  of  Regina  ?  "  was  a  ques- 
tion that  rose  warningly  within  him. 

But  he  would  not  listen  to  it.  He  was  almost 
delirious.  The  fever  for  action  possessed  him. 

He  called  his  workpeople  together,  explained  to 
them  that  he  no  longer  needed  their  services,  and 
bade  each  to  return  as  quickly  as  possible  to  his 
native  place,  from  there  to  join  his  respective  com- 
pany. He  paid  them  off,  and  took  leave  of  them  with 
a  shake  of  the  hand  and  a  blessing. 

The  stalwart  youths,  who  had  lost  their  hearts  to 
him,  kissed  the  hem  of  his  coat,  and  went  their 
way  with  tears  in  their  eyes.  Then  he  found  a 
place  of  safety  for  the  waggons,  whose  freight  alone 
represented  no  small  capital,  made  arrangements 
for  the  sale  of  the  seed  and  provender,  and  left  the 
horses  at  the  disposal  of  a  dealer. 

Only  the  one  on  whose  back  he  rode  did  he 
keep  for  his  own  use. 

It  was  half-past  two  before  he  had  transacted 
his  business,  and  was  free  to  start  on  his  homeward 
road. 


284     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

He  had  seen  hanging  up  for  sale  in  a  tailor's 
shop  an  undress  state-uniform,  which,  as  the 
officers  of  the  Landwehr  were  forbidden  any  gor- 
geous display  of  ornament,  and  it  happened  to  fit 
him  exactly,  he  purchased  promptly,  first  having  the 
braided  collar  replaced  by  a  plain  scarlet  strip. 

Thus  respectably  fitted  out,  he  was  ready  to  con- 
front his  Schrandeners,  whom  he  now  saw  delivered 
into  his  hand  in  a  rather  different  manner  from  the 
one  he  had  anticipated. 

*••••• 

While  Boleslav  was  riding  home,  Lieutenant 
Merckel  was  pacing  up  and  down  the  back  parlour 
of  the  Black  Eagle  in  furious  excitement. 

"  I  won't,  no,  I  won't  submit  to  being  under  the 
command  of  that  scoundrel,"  he  roared  at  his  father, 
who,  to  soothe  him,  had  the  best  wine  in  his  cellar 
(the  best  was  sour  enough)  set  on  the  table,  and 
never  wearied  of  refilling  the  raving  youth's  glass. 

"Felixchen,"  he  supplicated,  "be  sensible.  If 
the  King  has  ordered  it  so,  and  the  authorities 
demand " 

"  But  what  if  my  honour  demands  the  contrary, 
father  ?  "  cried  his  son,  angrily  twirling  the  ends  of 
his  moustache.  "  I  am  an  officer,  father ;  I  have 
some  sense  of  honour,  and  my  sense  of  honour  bids 
me  die  by  putting  a  bullet  through  my  body  with  my 
own  hand,  rather  than  follow  and  serve  under  that 
son  of  a  traitor." 

"But  if  the  King "  repeated  the  old  man  in 

desperation. 


THE  SINS  OF  THE   FATHERS     285 

"  The  King !  what  does  he  know  about  it  ?  He 
has  been  taken  in,  deceived,  kept  in  the  dark.  But 
I,  /  will  open  his  eyes.  I  will  say  to  him,  '  Here, 
your  Majesty,  are  thirty  brave  soldiers,  and  an 
honourable,  upright  officer,  who  would  rather ' " 

"  Drink,  Felixchen,"  entreated  the  old  man,  and 
wiped  the  sweat  of  anxiety  from  his  brow;  "this 
wine  cost  me,  to  begin  with,  a  thaler  the  bottle. 
Nowhere  else  in  the  world  could  you  get  anything 
to  compare  with  it." 

"The  devil  take  your  swipes!"  exclaimed  the 
dutiful  son,  smashing  the  bottle  with  his  sabre-hilt. 
"  I  don't  intend  to  sacrifice  my  honour  for  any  Judas 
reward.  My  honour  is  not  to  be  bribed  into  silence. 
My  honour  dictates  that  I  should  tear  the  hound's 
heart  out  of  his  breast.  And  111  do  it.  The  Father- 
land must  be  rid  of  such  a  scandalous  reproach  once 
for  all.  This  plague-spot  in  the  Prussian  staff  of 
officers  must  and  shall  be  branded  out.  I'll  see 
that  it  is.  So  sure  as  I  am  a  brave  soldier  I  will  do 
it,  even  if  I  die  for  honour's  sake.  .  .  .  Good-bye  for 
the  present,  father ;  I  must  go  now  and  bid  my  little 
sweetheart  farewell."  And  rounding  his  lips  for 
a  defiant  whistle,  the  half-inebriated  young  man 
swaggered  out,  his  sabre-blade  clanking  the  ground 
at  every  step. 

Boleslav,  as  he  entered  the  village  shortly  after 
four,  found  the  street  full  of  women  and  old  people, 
who  ran  from  under  the  horse's  hoofs,  maintaining 
a  glum  silence,  and  then  followed  like  evil  spirits 
in  his  wake.  He  felt  for  the  pistols  in  his  side 


286     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

pockets,  and  loosened  the  scabbard  of  his  sabre ; 
then  he  fully  expected  a  skirmish  of  some  sort. 
"  Even  if  they  have  no  other  officer  with  a  soldier's 
coat  on,  they  may  be  planning  to  attack  me  from  the 
front  this  time,"  he  reflected,  and  his  breast  expanded 
proudly  at  the  thought. 

The  crowd  was  denser  in  the  churchyard  square, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  rein  in  his  horse  to  give  it 
time  to  get  out  of  his  way.  Here  and  there  a 
smothered  laugh  or  a  half-whispered  imprecation 
fell  on  his  ear.  Otherwise  total  silence  was  the 
order  of  the  day.  Close  to  the  church,  some  twenty 
paces  from  its  flight  of  stone  steps,  he  saw  the 
troops  drawn  up  in  double  line,  about  fifteen  or 
sixteen  squadrons  in  strength. 

Lieutenant  Merckel  was  parading  up  and  down, 
giving  first  one  and  then  another — as  it  seemed — a 
word  of  encouragement.  His  face  was  aflame,  his 
gait  uncertain ;  once  or  twice  his  cavalry  sabre  got 
entangled  with  his  legs  and  nearly  tripped  him  up. 

Boleslav  cast  one  rapid,  searching  glance  at  the 
parsonage.  Its  windows  were  closely  curtained,  and 
in  the  garden  too  there  was  no  sign  of  life. 

He  drew  a  deep  breath,  and  rode  into  the  heart 
of  the  crowd,  which  closed  behind  him. 

Once  again  he  stood  single-handed,  face  to  face 
with  the  Schrandener  wolves,  but  this  time  he  was 
master. 

The  sense  of  iron  calm  and  perfect  coolness, 
which  he  had  always  experienced  at  moments  of 
life  and  death  issues,  did  not  forsake  him  now. 


THE  SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS     287 

" I  am  waiting  for  your  salute,  Herr  Lieutenant" 
he  cried  in  a  threatening  tone. 

He  was  answered  by  a  drunken,  jeering  laugh. 

So  they  intended  to  mutiny!  His  suspicions 
had  not  been  ill  founded. 

He  tore  his  sabre  from  the  scabbard.  "  Halt ! " 
he  commanded. 

There  was  a  murmur  of  dissent.  Two  or  three 
stepped  out  of  the  ranks,  and  Lieutenant  Merckel, 
with  an  abusive  epithet,  drew  his  sabre  and  rushed 
at  Boleslav. 

This  was  a  moment  in  which  hesitation  would 
have  been  fatal.  A  flash  of  steel,  a  whiz,  and 
Lieutenant  Merckel  sank  howling  on  the  sandy 
earth. 

The  ranks  broke  their  line,  made  as  if  they  would 
spring  on  him :  but  surprise  and  terror  petrified 
them. 

"  Halt ! "  The  command  came  forth  for  the 
second  time  in  a  voice  of  thunder;  and  no  one 
dared  move  an  eyelash. 

Boleslav  drew  a  pistol  from  the  saddle-pocket, 
and,  holding  it  with  the  trigger  cocked  in  his  left 
hand,  he  let  the  reins  slip  into  his  armed  right. 

"  Men  of  the  Landwehr ! "  he  shouted  in  a  voice 
that  reverberated  through  the  square,  "you  know 
that  during  the  last  six  hours  you  are  bound  in 
obedience  by  a  war-decree,  and  that  the  slightest 
attempt  at  insubordination  will  cost  you  your  lives. 
What  has  taken  place  up  to  this  moment  I  will  over- 
look, but  whoever  does  not  instantly  comply  with 


288     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

my  commands  without  grumbling  will  find  that  I 
shall  not  scruple  to  send  a  bullet  through  his  brain 
on  the  spot." 

Felix  Merckel,  who  was  bleeding  copiously  from 
a  wound  in  his  head,  regained  consciousness,  and 
tried  to  raise  himself.  But  the  blood  that  streamed 
over  his  face  blinded  him. 

"  Take  away  his  sabre  and  bind  him ! "  were 
Boleslav's  instructions. 

The  men  exchanged  glances ;  they  had  nothing 
to  bind  him  with. 

Again  to  hesitate  would  be  to  lose  the  day;  so 
with  a  quick  resolve  he  sprang  off  his  horse,  tore 
the  bridle  from  its  bit,  and  handed  the  thongs  to 
the  fliigelman  on  his  left. 

"  Set  to  work,  and  two  others  help." 

Reluctantly,  and  with  evil  sidelong  glances,  they 
obeyed.  The  prostrate  man  hit  out  with  hands 
and  feet,  and  endeavoured  to  wipe  the  blood  out 
of  his  eyes  with  his  sleeve,  but  his  struggles  were 
in  vain ;  the  reins  bound  his  wrists,  and  the  foam- 
spattered  curb  served  as  a  gag. 

Meanwhile  the  spirited  black  charger  had  broken 
away,  and  was  rearing  among  the  terrified  rabble. 

Boleslav  saw,  as  he  looked  behind  him,  that  the 
church  door  stood  open  for  a  farewell  service,  and 
that  the  key  was  in  the  lock. 

"Put  him  in  the  church,"  he  commanded;  and 
at  the  same  moment  the  old  landlord  of  the  inn 
appeared  on  the  scene,  whimpering  and  wringing 
his  hands. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     289 

"  Felixchen !  "  he  yelled,  "  what  are  they  doing 
to  you  ?  Don't  give  in ;  cry  for  help.  Help  him, 
dear  people.  I  order  you  to  help  him.  I  am  your 
mayor.  I  insist — I  command  you." 

"  It  is  my  place  to  issue  commands  here,"  ex- 
claimed Boleslav  loftily. 

Then  the  old  man  changed  his  tactics,  and,  by 
cringing,  tried  to  soften  the  disciplinarian's  heart. 

"  Herr  Captain,  have  compassion  on  a  wretched 
father.  I  have  known  you  since  you  were  a  little 
boy,  who  sat  on  my  knee,  and  I  always,  always 
was  fond  of  you.  Isn't  it  true,  you  people  ? 
Wouldn't  any  of  us  have  willingly  given  our  lives 
for  the  Junker  ?  " 

Had  his  corpulency  permitted,  he  would  have 
thrown  himself  at  Boleslav's  feet.  On  seeing  his 
son  hustled  away,  he  ran  after  him  in  despair,  and 
made  a  futile  attempt  to  hold  him  back  by  the  coat- 
tails.  But  the  door  was  promptly  closed  on  him. 

"  Give  me  the  key  !  "  shouted  Boleslav. 

The  old  man  hurled  himself  on  the  steps,  and 
pounded  the  oak  panels  of  the  door  with  his  fists. 

The  key  was  delivered  up  by  the  flugelman  and 
his  companions. 

"Your  name?" 

"Michael  Grossjohann ! "  the  Schrandener  an- 
swered curtly. 

"  And  yours,"  turning  to  the  two  others. 

"  Franz  Malky." 

"  Emil  Rosner." 

He  entered  the  names  in  his  pocket-book. 

T 


290     THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"You  three  will  keep  watch  on  the  prisoner 
through  the  night,  and  are  answerable  for  him  with 
your  heads." 

Old  Merckel,  finding  the  church  door  did  not 
yield  to  his  furious  onslaughts,  came  to  his  senses, 
and  squinting  askance  at  Boleslav,  sneaked  off  in 
the  direction  of  the  parsonage.  The  latter  thought 
he  knew  what  he  wanted  there. 

"  Three  more  of  you,"  he  continued,  "  will  kindly 
guard  the  vestry  door,  the  key  of  which  I  have  not 
got  in  my  possession,  and  take  care  that  no  one 
goes  in  and  out  except  the  barber,  who  is  to 
bandage  the  prisoner's  wound." 

Three  voices  quivering  with  suppressed  anger 
assured  him  his  orders  should  be  obeyed. 

"Now  then,  to  business!"  he  exclaimed.  "Ac- 
cording to  the  lists  the  village  of  Schranden  is 
capable  of  supplying  troops  to  the  number——.* 
And  the  mobilisation  began. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Two  hours  later  Boleslav  quitted  the  gaping  crowd, 
who  glowered  at  him  with  a  sort  of  stony  super- 
stitious awe,  as  if  he  were  a  magician,  and  as  he 
crossed  the  open  common  he  felt  as  if  he  had  just 
left  a  cage  of  wild  beasts,  the  duty  of  taming 
which,  had  fallen  to  his  share.  The  danger  seemed 
safely  over  for  the  present.  "  Having  mastered 
them  to-day,  they  won't  dare  to  mutiny  to-morrow,'* 
he  thought,  and  revelled  in  the  joyous  sensation  of 
having  won  a  victory. 

Now  he  had  only  to  take  leave  of  Regina,  and 
his  troubles  would  be  at  an  end.  The  world  was  all 
before  him  once  more ;  an  unknown  future  seemed 
to  be  enticing  him  onwards  with  bugle-peals  and 
battle-cries. 

"  Regina !  now  for  Regina !  "  welled  up  in  him 
with  such  jubilation,  from  the  depths  of  his  soul, 
that  he  was  frightened  at  himself.  He  took  a  round 
by  the  wood  before  approaching  the  Cats'  Bridge, 
to  brace  and  harden  his  nerves  for  this  last  and 
most  arduous  encounter. 

The  sun  pierced  the  topmost  boughs  of  the  trees. 
Over  the  tender  young  green  of  the  meadows  floated 
a  shadowy  haze,  and  an  odour  of  fermenting  slime 

agz 


292     THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS 

rose  from  the  damp  ditches.  Only  the  fir-wooo 
looked  as  dark  and  mysterious  as  in  winter,  with 
scarcely  a  light-green  spike  peeping  anywhere  from 
its  black,  bare  branches. 

He  threw  himself  on  the  mossy  ground  and 
watched  the  sunbeams  glint  through  the  purple 
haze  that  hung  over  the  surrounding  thicket. 

Once  again  he  reviewed  the  daring  enterprise 
of  the  last  few  hours,  and  the  thickly  curtained 
windows  of  the  parsonage  recurred  to  his  memory. 
How  careful  she  had  been  to  keep  herself  out  of  his 
sight  and  reach,  and  how  well  she  had  succeeded ! 
Surely  she  must  know  what  had  brought  him  into 
the  village — must  know  that  to-morrow  he  would 
quit  it,  perhaps  never  to  return. 

Had  she  no  longing  to  see  him  just  once  before 
his  departure,  and  to  wish  him  God  speed  ?  The 
hour  she  had  told  him  to  wait  patiently  for,  was  it 
not  time  it  came  to-day  ?  What  availed  the  letter 
he  wore  close  to  his  heart,  if  the  hand  that  penned 
it  was  refused  to  him  ?  Her  image  was  now  quite 
effaced  from  his  heart ;  it  could  no  longer  lead  him 
to  battle,  unless  the  impression  was  renewed. 

"  If  she  loves  me,  she  will  send  for  me.  If  she 
doesn't  send  for  me,  she  must  be  lost  to  me  for  ever." 

Having  arrived  at  this  conclusion  he  left  the 
wood  and  bent  his  footsteps  in  the  direction  of  the 
river.  The  park,  in  its  new  spring  dress  of  lightest 
green,  smiled  him  a  welcome.  A  shimmering  crown 
of  silver  rested  on  the  tall  poplars,  and  the  dark 
masses  of  ivy  glistened  on  their  slender  trunks. 


THE  SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS     293 

How  beautiful  was  this  home,  that  had  been  a 
source  of  such  infinite  pain  and  sorrow !  How  his 
whole  being  yearned  for  that  impoverished  dwelling 
where  he  had  lodged  like  a  criminal!  Was  this 
longing  owing  to  the  woman  who  had  voluntarily 
shared  his  loneliness  and  wretchedness,  and  who 
had  tried  to  make  her  own  misery  the  foundation 
of  a  new  happiness  for  him  ? 

But  he  had  no  reason  to  fear  what  was  to  come. 
He  felt  that  since  the  Fatherland  had  summoned 
him,  he  was  safe  from  all  weak  and  vicious  instincts. 
Even  long  before  this  he  believed  he  had  completely 
freed  himself  from  her  influence.  Their  relations 
now  were  merely  those  of  master  and  servant. 

One  more  night,  and  the  priest's  curse  would  be 
remembered  only  as  an  old  man's  idle  babble.  Yet 
what  would  become  of  her  ?  She  must  look  after 
herself.  He  had  provided  for  her  future.  No  one 
could  say  he  was  bound  to  do  more.  And  to-day 
he  would  renew  his  bounty  twofold  or  threefold,  so 
that  she  would  stand  in  the  position  of  a  wealthy 
widow.  When  thousands  of  women  and  children 
would  perish  of  hunger  in  broken-hearted  distress, 
without  any  one  heeding  their  fate,  why  should  he 
concern  himself  so  much  about  deserting  this  one 
strange  girl  and  leaving  her  in  solitude  ? 

He  steeled  and  hardened  his  heart,  for  it  had 
begun  to  beat  faster.  .  .  . 

And  as  he  mounted  the  steep  ascent  to  the  Cats' 
Bridge,  he  caught  sight  of  the  familiar  figure  among 
the  bushes  above,  illumined  by  the  setting  sun. 


294     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"  Regina,"  he  called.     But  she  did  not  move. 

"  Come  and  meet  me,  Regina !  " 

Then  with  elevated  shoulders  she  slowly  glided 
nearer,  the  fingers  of  her  left  hand  outspread,  and 
pressed  against  her  breast. 

He  looked  at  her,  and  was  horrified.  "  My  God  ! " 
he  exclaimed,  "  how  changed  you  are !  " 

Her  appearance  was  wild  and  distraught  in  the 
extreme.  Her  clothes  were  torn,  her  hair,  which 
under  the  frequent  use  of  the  comb  had  begun  to  fall 
into  such  splendid  glossy  waves,  once  more  hung 
over  her  forehead  and  cheeks  in  a  shaggy,  unkempt 
mass.  Her  eyes  shone  with  feverish,  almost  uncanny 
lustre  from  dark-blue  cavities,  and  she  dared  not 
raise  them  to  his. 

"She  is  pining  away,"  something  cried  in  him. 
"  She  will  die,  because  of  you."  He  took  hold  of 
her  hand  and  it  lay  limply  in  his  palm. 

"Regina,  do  speak.  Aren't  you  glad  that  I've 
come  back  ?  " 

She  ducked  her  head,  as  she  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  doing  when  she  instinctively  expected  blows 
instead  of  kind  words. 

He  stroked  her  rough,  dry  hair.  "  Poor  thing ! " 
he  said.  "You  must  have  had  a  dreadfully  dull 
time  of  it,  with  not  a  human  soul  to  speak  to  " 

She  shrank  from  his  touch  and  was  still  silent. 

"Why  did  you  not  write  and  tell  me  that  you 
found  it  so  terribly  lonely  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head,  and  then  said  timidly,  "  It 
wasn't  the  loneliness." 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS     29$ 

"  What  was  it  then  ? 

She  looked  at  him  nervously  and  said  nothing. 

"  Well,  what  was  it  ?  " 

"I  ...  I  thought  .  .  .  you  weren't  coming  back." 

"  But, you  foolish  girl, didn't  I  write  and  say  I  was?" 

"  Yes,  you  wrote  and  said,  '  I  am  coming  perhaps 
in  about  ten  days,'  and  I  went  to  the  Cats'  Bridge, 
and  there  I  waited  day  and  night — day  and  night — 
but  you  didn't  come.  And  then  three  weeks  after- 
wards you  wrote  again,  'I  shall  come  home  per- 
haps in  about  ten  days.'  And  you  never  came,  and 
then  I  thought  you  were  only  putting  me  off  with 
promises  ...  so  as  not  to  break  it  to  me  suddenly 
that  you  weren't  coming  back  at  all.  And  I  thought 
you  repented  being  good  to  me,  because  I  didn't 

deserve  it,  and  because  I "  She  broke  off  and 

buried  her  face  for  a  moment  in  her  hands. 

"  But  your  letter  was  so  sensible." 

"  Yes,  Herr"  she  faltered.  "  Would  it  have  done 
for  me  to  write  differently  ?  " 

He  bit  his  lip,  and  stared  before  him  into  the 
lacework  of  the  young  green  foliage.  Did  she 
suspect  what  would  befall  her  in  a  few  hours  ? 

"  But  now  all  is  right  again,  isn't  it  ? "  he  asked 
unsteadily. 

With  a  cry  she  sank  on  the  ground,  and  clinging 
to  his  knees  exclaimed,  "  Yes,  oh  yes,  Herr.  When 
you  are  here  everything  is  right,  everything  is 
different.  If  you  were  to  go  away  again,  Herr, 
what  should  I  do  ?  " 

No,  she  suspected  nothing.     The  heaviest,  most 


296     THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

crushing  blow  of  all  was  in  store  for  her.  He  felt  as 
if  there  were  a  thunderbolt  concealed  in  his  sleeve, 
which  the  next  time  he  stirred  would  descend  and 
shatter  her  to  fragments.  But  he  had  still  time  to 
dispose  of  as  he  pleased.  A  few  hours  to  devote 
to  this  poor  creature,  in  which  to  revive  and  make 
her  happy  again  before  signing  her  death-warrant, 
and  in  which  she  would  unconsciously  gather  up 
strength  for  the  ordeal. 

"Stand  up,  Regina,"  he  said  gently.  "Let  us 
enjoy  ourselves,  and  not  think  of  the  future." 

Then  they  walked  side  by  side  through  the  dusky 
garden,  the  neatly  kept  paths  of  which  were  strewn 
with  white  gravel,  and  skirted,  like  glittering  rivulets, 
the  smooth  turf.  The  shrubs  exhaled  an  indescrib- 
able fragrance,  the  breath  of  spring  mingled  with 
the  scent  of  dying  things,  and  in  the  tree-tops  that 
waved  above  their  heads,  they  heard  the  subdued 
whispering  twitter  of  home-coming  birds. 

"  How  beautifully  everything  has  come  out  here 
since  I  went  away  ! "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  Herr"  she  answered.  "  It  has  never  been 
so  beautiful  as  it  is  now." 

"  It  has  become  so  all  at  once  ?  "  he  asked,  smiling. 
He  looked  at  her  sideways  and  noticed  the  hollows 
in  her  cheeks.  But  an  exquisite  colour  was  already 
tinging  them. 

She  has  begun  to  live  again,  he  thought  to  him- 
self, and  it  seemed  as  if  the  next  few  hours  wece  to 
be  the  last  vouchsafed  to  him  too  of  a  vanishing 
happiness. 


THE  SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS     297 

"  In  spite  of  everything,  you  have  worked  hard," 
he  said,  striving  to  retain  his  tone  of  condescending 
patronage,  and  he  pointed  to  the  neat  borders  in 
which  auriculas  and  primroses  were  planted. 

She  gave  a  proud  little  laugh.  "  I  thought  to 
myself  you  should  find  everything  in  order  if  you 
did  come  back,  Herr" 

"  But  you  have  neglected  yourself,  Regina.  How 
is  that  ?  " 

She  turned  her  face  away,  blushing  hotly. 

"Shall  I  tell  the  truth,  Htrr?"  she  stammered. 

"  Of  course,"  he  said. 

"I  thought  ...  I  ...  was  .  .  .  going  to  die 
.  .  .  and  so  ...  it  wouldn't  matter." 

He  was  silent.  It  was  as  if  she  poured  forth  an 
ocean  of  infinite  love  with  every  word,  and  that  its 
waves  rolled  over  him. 

The  lawn  on  the  farther  side  of  the  Castle,  sloping 
gently  down  to  the  park,  now  opened  before  his 
gaze.  There  stood  the  weather-beaten  socket  of  the 
Goddess  Diana's  pedestal.  Regina  had  collected 
the  pieces  and  put  them  together  again,  but  the 
torso  had  been  beyond  her  strength  to  lift,  and 
it  lay  in  the  grass,  while  the  head,  with  its  blank 
white  eyes,  looked  down  on  it.  A  few  steps  farther 
on,  a  dark  four-cornered  patch  stood  out  in  relief 
from  the  emerald  turf.  That  was  the  spot  where 
he  had  first  seen  her  busily  employed  in  digging  a 
grave  for  her  seducer,  whom  every  one  else  refused 
to  bury. 

"  I  left  it  as  it  was — in  memory  of  me,"  she  said 


298     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

apologetically,  pointing  to  the  turned-up  clods  that, 
now  overgrown  with  grass,  had  joined  and  formed 
a  bank. 

Then  they  walked  on  towards  the  undergrowth 
that  surrounded  the  cottage  like  a  thick  hedge. 

"And  I  have  mended  the  glass  roof  too,"  she 
said. 

"Ah!  indeed !" 

Their  eyes  met  for  a  moment,  and  then  they  both 
quickly  looked  in  front  of  them  again.  There 
was  an  aspect  of  peaceful  welcome  about  the  little 
house.  Its  window  panes  had  caught  a  ray  of 
the  departing  sunlight,  while  all  else  lay  buried  in 
deepest  shadow. 

A  sense  of  contentment  at  being  at  home,  and  of 
gladness  that  this  was  his  home,  overcame  him,  and 
for  a  moment  allayed  his  gnawing  restlessness. 

"Go,"  he  said,  "and  cook  me  something  for 
supper;  I  am  hungry  and  exhausted  after  a  long 
ride." 

He  remembered  his  horse  for  the  first  time,  and 
wondered  where  it  had  galloped  to.  Then  the  next 
instant  he  forgot  it  again. 

"And  make  yourself  neat,"  he  continued.  "I 
should  like  you  to  look  your  best  when  you  come 
to  table." 

"Yes,  Herr—  I'll  try." 

They  separated  in  the  vestibule.  He  went  into 
the  sitting-room,  and  she  to  her  kitchen.  He  threw 
himself  with  a  deep  sigh  on  the  sofa,  that  creaked 
beneath  his  weight.  Everything  seemed  the  same 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     299 

as  on  the  night  he  had  left  it,  except  that  the 
curtain  had  been  taken  away  from  the  corner  by 
the  stove,  and  the  couch  removed ;  the  portrait  of 
his  grandmother,  too,  had  disappeared.  The  shot 
which  grazed  Regina's  neck  had  proved  its  final 
destruction,  and  reduced  it  to  ribbons. 

One  of  the  windows  was  open.  The  strange 
perfume  of  fermenting  earth,  which  to-day  he  could 
not  get  out  of  his  nostrils,  flooded  the  apartment. 
But  here  it  might  possibly  come  from  a  lime  heap, 
which  had  been  shovelled  up  at  the  gable  end  of  the 
house. 

From  minute  to  minute  his  unrest  increased. 
Why  shorten  for  him  and  her  the  all  too  scanty 
time  ?  He  could  tolerate  solitude  no  longer,  and  got 
up  with  the  intention  of  going  into  the  kitchen,  but 
when  on  the  threshold  he  saw  her  cowering  on  the 
hearth  with  naked  shoulders,  mending  her  jacket  by 
the  firelight, — he  retreated,  shocked.  But  in  a  few 
seconds  she  came  herself  to  open  the  door  to  him, 
fully  dressed. 

"  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you,  Herr?"  she 
asked  respectfully. 

"  Show  me  where  you  have  repaired  the  roof,"  he 
replied,  not  being  able  to  think  of  anything  else  to 
say.  He  praised  her  work,  without  looking  at  it. 
Then  he  took  up  a  position  on  the  hearth  and  stared 
at  the  tongues  of  flame  in  the  grate.  By  this  time 
it  was  nearly  dark,  and  the  firelight  flickered  on 
the  rush  walls. 

"  I'll  help  you  to  cook,"  he  said. 


300     THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

"Ah,  Herr  !  You  are  laughing  at  me,"  she  an- 
swered. But  her  face  lighted  up  with  pleasure. 

"  What  am  I  to  have  for  supper  ?  " 

"There  isn't  much  in  the  house,  Herr.  Eggs 
and  fried  ham — a  fresh  salad — and  that's  all." 

"  I  shall  thank  God  if  I "  he  stopped  abruptly. 

He  had  nearly  betrayed  the  secret  of  which  as  yet 
she  had  no  suspicion,  and  she  should  not,  must  not, 
suspect  anything.  Till  the  dawn  of  to-morrow  her 
felicity  should  last. 

"Very  well,  make  haste,"  he  laughed,  while  his 
throat  contracted  in  anxious  suspense,  "else  I  shall 
expire  of  hunger." 

"The  water  must  boil  first,  Herr" 

"All  right,  we'll  wait,  then."  He  squatted  on  one 
of  the  wooden  boxes.  "And,  Regina,"  he  went  on, 
"  come  here ;  do  you  know  I  am  not  satisfied  with 
your  appearance  even  now  ?  Your  hair " 

"  I've  not  had  time  to  comb  it  yet,  Herr.n 

"Comb  it  now  at  once,  then." 

She  flashed  at  him  a.  look  of  shy  entreaty. 

"While  you  are  here,  Herr?"  she  asked  hesi- 
tatingly. 

"  Why  not  ?  Have  you  become  prudish  all  in  a 
minute  ?  " 

"  It  wasn't  that " 

"  Then  don't  stand  on  ceremony." 

She  went  into  the  far  corner  of  the  apartment, 
where  her  bed  stood,  and  with  a  quick  movement 
loosened  the  floating  wealth  of  tresses  till  they 
hung  below  her  hips.  In  the  middle  of  her  comb- 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     301 

ing,  aware  that  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  her  in 
admiration,  she  suddenly  spread  out  her  arms,  as 
if  overcome  with  shame  and  joy,  and  threw  herself 
on  her  knees  by  the  bed,  burying  her  face  in  the 
pillows. 

He  waited  silently  till  she  got  up.  When  her 
hair  was  done  she  went  to  the  hearth  and  busied 
herself  among  the  pots  and  kettles,  without  looking 
at  him. 

"Tell  me,  Regina,  what  have  you  been  doing 
with  yourself  all  this  time  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  "  Bockeldorf  was  the  same 
as  ever;  besides  the  grocer  and  his  wife,  I  never 
saw  a  single  soul.  During  the  floods  I  didn't  go 
once  down  to  the  village.  As  I  told  you  in  my 
letter,  I  had  to  starve  for  a  time,  but  I  didn't 
mind  And  then,  during  the  last  few  weeks,-  some 
letters  have  come,  from  Wartenstein,  and  Konigs- 
berg  too — and  to-day  one — from " 

"  Ah,  never  mind  !  I'll  look  at  them  later,  when 
you've  brought  some  light." 

What  concern  had  he  with  the  outer  world  to-day, 
when  he  had  burnt  the  bridges  that  connected  him 
with  his  past,  and  nothing  remained  of  all  he  had 
suffered  and  lived  through  ? 

Then  when  the  supper  table  was  spread,  and  the 
lamp  shone  at  him  from  Regina's  hand,  he  crossed 
over  with  her  to  the  sitting-room. 

"You  have  not  laid  a  place  for  yourself,"  he 
remarked. 

"May  I,  Herr?" 


302         THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"Of  course  you  may." 

"And,  Herr,  what  wine?" 

He  drew  a  long  breath — "None !" 

And  so  once  more  they  sat  opposite  each  other  in 
the  soft  lamp-light,  as  they  had  so  often  done  on 
winter  evenings,  when  the  snow  was  driven  against 
the  window  panes,  and  gales  shook  the  roof  and 
rattled  in  the  beams.  Now  grey  moths  flapped 
gently  to  and  fro,  bringing  with  them  into  the  room 
whiffs  of  the  balmy  outer  air,  and  the  rising  moon, 
which  was  full  for  the  first  time  since  Easter,  shim- 
mered through  the  young  foliage. 

He  pushed  his  plate  away.  Not  a  morsel  could 
he  eat.  The  precaution  of  leaving  the  wine  in  the 
cellar  had  done  no  good,  for  the  excitement  he  had 
wished  to  shun  was,  notwithstanding,  creeping  over 
him.  He  took  a  stolen  glance  at  Regina,  and 
trembled.  Her  eyes  rested  on  him  in  such  a 
transport  of  happiness,  that  she  seemed  oblivious 
of  everything  in  heaven  and  earth,  except  the  fact 
that  he  was  sitting  near  her.  Every  trace  of  sorrow 
and  distress  had  vanished  from  her  face  as  if  by 
magic.  Its  curves  had  taken  a  new  roundness,  a 
new  freshness  bloomed  in  her  cheeks.  But  what 
struck  him  as  most  lovely  in  her,  was  the  languorous, 
yielding  tenderness  of  her  whole  being,  as  if  she 
had  loosened  herself  from  the  trammels  of  earth  and 
floated  in  space. 

"Regina,"  he  whispered.  His  heart  seemed 
throbbing  violently  in  his  throat.  A  voice  of  warn- 
ing rose  within  him,  saying,  "Take  care.  Be  on 


THE    SINS    OF  THE    FATHERS      303 

your  guard — this  is  the  last  time  she  will  lead  you 
into  temptation." 

"  The  last  time ! "  came  a  melancholy  echo. 

"  Yes ;  she  will  die — perish  of  heart-sickness  and 
unsatisfied  longing." 

The  scar  on  his  under-lip  began  to  burn. 

"Take  her  in  your  arms  and  then  kill  her;  that 
will  save  her  all  further  misery,"  was  the  next 
thought  that  rushed  through  his  brain.  "  But  it 
would  be  literal  madness  to  do  such  a  thing,"  he 
added  to  himself,  shuddering. 

And  again  their  eyes  met  and  sank  in  each  other's 
depths.  Their  souls  knew  of  no  resistance,  even 
though  their  bodies  still  sought  despairingly  for 
weapons  of  defence. 

"Save  yourself!"  cried  that  warning  voice  again. 
"  Think  of  the  curse !  Keep  yourself  pure  and 
unspotted  for  the  Fatherland  ! " 

He  tried  to  think  of  words  to  speak  that  would 
break  the  spell  of  blissful  enchantment;  but  none 
would  occur  to  him.  Then  he  rose  and  walked  to 
the  open  window  to  bathe  his  hot  brow  in  the 
cool  night  air.  "  Speak — act — end  this  silence,"  he 
exhorted  himself.  He  thought  of  the  letters  she 
had  spoken  of. 

"Give  me  the  letters,"  he  said.  His  voice 
sounded  harsh. 

She  fetched  a  packet  of  white  covers,  which  she 
laid  by  his  plate.  He  opened  the  first  he  came  to, 
and  stared  vacantly  at  the  unfolded  sheet.  Would  it 
not  be  better  to  allude  now  to  the  unavoidable?  Why 


304     THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS 

spare  her  allusion  to  a  parting  which  was  inevit- 
able ?  But  he  put  the  idea  from  him  in  horror. 
"Till  midnight  she  shall  be  happy.  Take  her  in 
your  arms,  and  then " 

"  His  Hochwohlgeboren  the  Freiherr  Boleslav 
von  Schranden  is  hereby  informed  that  his  appeal 
for  an  inquiry  into  the  causes  and  events  which 
eventually  led  to  the  destruction  by  fire  of  Castle 
Schranden,  on  the  6th  of  March  1809,  is  receiv- 
ing attention,  and  that  a  day  has  been  appointed 
for " 

With  a  discordant  laugh  he  tossed  the  communi- 
cation to  one  side,  and  fumbled  for  the  next  letter. 
His  eye  fell  on  Helene's  handwriting.  A  feeling 
almost  of  aversion  shot  through  him.  What  did 
she  want  now  ?  Why  disturb  him  at  this  the 
eleventh  hour? 

"  MY  DEAREST  BOLESLAV, — I  can't  let  you  go  to 
the  war  again  without  once  seeing  and  speaking  to 
you.  I  beg  and  implore  you  to  meet  me  this  even- 
ing at  nine  o'clock,  near  the  churchyard  side-gate, 
where  I  will  wait  for  you. — Your  HELENE." 

"  Why  not  before,"  he  murmured,  "  when  there 
was  plenty  of  time  to  spare  ?  "  Then  suddenly  it 
flashed  across  him  that  again  in  an  hour  of  danger 
his  guardian  angel  had  put  forth  her  rescuing  hand 
to  him,  and  that  it  would  be  criminal  folly  on  his 
part  to  disregard  the  sign,  and  not  respond  to  the 
summons. 


THE   SINS  OF  THE   FATHERS      305 

"You  must — you  must,"  he  said  to  himself,  "or 
you  won't  be  worth  the  cannon-ball  that  at  this  mo- 
ment is  being  cast  for  you  in  France." 

Was  it  not  a  special  dispensation  of  divine  grace 
that  the  daughter  should  intervene  at  such  a  perilous 
crisis  as  this  to  transform  the  father's  curse  into  a 
blessing?  He  looked  at  the  clock.  It  wanted  only 
a  few  minutes  to  the  hour  mentioned.  He  dragged 
himself  on  to  his  feet. 

"I  must  go  down  to  the  village,"  he  said.  "There 
is  some  one  who  wants  to  see  me."  And  though  he 
avoided  meeting  her  eyes,  her  pathetic,  beseeching 
glance  penetrated  to  his  innermost  soul. 

"I  shall  soon  be  back,"  he  stammered. 

She  folded  her  hands,  and  placed  herself  silently 
before  him. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked. 

She  could  hardly  articulate  her  words. 

"Herri  I  am  so  frightened — I  feel  as  if  some- 
thing dreadful  was  going  to  happen !" 

"Since  when  have  you  been  given  to  presenti- 
ments ?"  he  said,  trying  to  joke. 

"I  don't  know — but  I  feel  so  strange,  Herri  .  .  , 
something  in  my  throat — as  if  ...  Oh !  I  know  it's 
stupid  of  me,  but  I  pray  you — not  to  go — not 
to-night " 

He  pushed  her  gently  to  one  side.  The  hand  that 
she  stretched  out  to  hold  him  back  fell  helplessly. 

"Please — please  don't  go !  ...  Herr!" 

He  set  his  teeth  and  went — went  to  his  guardian 
angel. 

U 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  Schrandeners,  as  many  as  could  leave  their 
homes  and  property,  were  meanwhile  gathered 
together  at  the  Black  Eagle,  engaged  in  a  farewell 
orgie. 

Old  Merckel  served  them  himself.  He  stood 
behind  the  bar,  refilling  unceasingly  the  empty 
glasses,  with  the  melancholy  smile,  which  to-day 
there  was  every  reason  to  believe  was  not  put  on. 

"Drink,  dear  friends,"  he  exhorted;  "don't  let 
the  unhappy  event  in  my  family  prevent  you ! 
What  does  it  matter  even  if  he  is  shot  ?  He  will 
die  a  noble  death  for  his  honour  and  his  Father- 
land!" 

He  wiped  the  sweat  from  his  shiny  forehead, 
while  his  little  eyes  wandered  in  uneasy  antici- 
pation from  one  face  to  the  other. 

"Go  and  take  a  glass,  Amalie,"  he  said,  turning 
to  the  barmaid,  "over  to  those  on  guard.  I  won't 
bear  them  malice  for  helping  to  bring  him  to  his 
ruin ! " 

The  Schrandeners,  deeply  touched  at  the  expres- 
sion of  so  much  high-minded  sentiment,  gazed  into 
their  tankards  in  moody  ang>r.  They  would  have 
been  ashamed  of  rushing  to  the  inn  and  displaying 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS      307 

such  avidity  for  a  carousal  in  the  face  of  their 
landlord's  private  misfortune,  had  they  not  felt  they 
could  not  better  show  their  sympathy  than  by  taking 
advantage  of  the  old  man's  generous  impulses.  So 
they  poured  beer  and  schnaps  down  their  throats  in 
positive  streams,  and  emulated  each  other  as  to  who 
could  drink  the  fastest. 

The  barmaid,  as  fat  and  cunning  as  her  master, 
slipped  out  with  a  tray  containing  a  dozen  foaming 
tankards,  after  she  had  received  a  few  whispered 
instructions  from  him,  accompanied  by  a  knowing 
nod  and  wink. 

"And  if  you  should  see  old  Hackelberg  about," 
he  called  after  her,  "  ask  him  in — ask  him  in.  He 
has  suffered  too  at  the  hands  of  the  scoundrel.  He 
ought  not  to  be  missing  on  this  sad  occasion." 

"  Brave  soldiers,"  he  continued,  wiping  his  eyes, 
"  drink !  drink  !  You  must  try  to  forget  that  this 
day  your  honour  has  been  forfeited.  Yes,  indeed, 
your  case  is  lamentable — even  more  lamentable  than 
that  of  my  poor  son,  to  whom  it  will  at  least  be 
granted  to  meet  death  for  honour's  sake.  But  you ! 
faugh,  for  shame!  What  will  be  your  feelings 
to-morrow  morning,  when  you  have  to  march  away 
under  the  leadership  of  that  son  of  a  traitor,  the 
villain  whom  our  revered  Herr  Pastor  has  cursed  ? 
It'll  be  '  Braun,  clean  my  boots ! '  and  '  Bickler,  hold 
my  stirrup ! '  and  that  sort  of  thing." 

The  two  men  mentioned  thus  by  name  started  up 
with  an  oath. 

"And   all    you   others,  however   much  he  may 


308      THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

oppress  and  bully  you,  you  must  submit  because 
he  is  your  commander ;  and  if  you  dare  to  mutiny, 
you'll  only  be  shot  down  like  vermin  for  your  pains. 
Such,  my  poor  dear  friends,  is  your  pitiable  lot! 
Therefore  I  say  drink,  and  bid  farewell  to  your 
military  honour.  To-morrow  the  very  dogs  will 
hesitate  to  take  a  crust  of  bread  from  your  hands  ! " 

A  half-stifled  murmur  ran  through  the  room, 
more  ominous  than  a  howl  of  rage. 

Then  the  carpenter  Hackelberg,  who  had  been 
loafing  about  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  inn, 
reeled  into  the  common  parlour,  half-drunk  as 
usual. 

He  was  received  in  silence.  But  old  Merckel 
advanced  solemnly  to  meet  him,  seized  him  by  the 
hand,  and  led  him  to  a  seat  of  honour. 

"You,  too,  are  an  unhappy  father,"  he  said  to 
him  in  a  voice  quivering  with  emotion.  "Your 
heart,  like  mine,  has  been  broken  by  the  ruin  of 
your  child.  You,  as  well  as  myself  and  us  all,  has 
the  tyrant  up  yonder,  on  his  conscience.  So  sit 
down,  you  miserable  man,  and  take  a  drop  of  some- 
thing with  us ! " 

The  drunkard,  who  was  used  to  being  fisticuffed 
and  held  up  to  derision,  even  by  those  who  bore 
him  no  ill-will,  scarcely  knew  what  to  make  of  this 
highly  flattering  reception.  He  glanced  suspiciously 
round  him  with  his  fishy  eyes,  and  appeared  to  be 
considering  earnestly  whether  he  should  begin  to 
brag  or  to  weep.  Meanwhile  he  drank  all  he  could 
lay  hands  on. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      309 

"  Look  at  this  deplorable  victim  of  baronial  lust," 
Herr  Merckel  continued.  "  A  man  who  is  deprived 
of  the  possibility  of  revenge  must  lose  his  self- 
respect  as  he  has,  and  degenerate  into  a  sloven. 
Day  and  night  he  broods  inwardly  on  the  wrong 
that  has  been  done  him.  But  even  the  trodden-on 
worm  turns  at  last,  and  who  can  blame  us  if  we 
wish  with  all  our  hearts  that  the  miscreant  should 
not  live  to  see  another  day  ?  " 

"Strike  him  dead!"  spluttered  the  carpenter, 
suddenly  waxing  furious,  but  there  was  only  a  faint 
echo  in  response,  for  to  the  men  who  were  now 
soldiers  under  orders  for  active  service  the  glibly 
made  suggestion  seemed  no  longer  a  trifle. 

Herr  Merckel  assumed  an  air  of  holy  horror. 
"  For  shame,  dear  people !  we  must  not  listen  to 
such  treason.  I,  being  your  mayor,  cannot  counte- 
nance it.  To  strike  him  down  in  broad  daylight 
would  be  an  unwarrantable  act  of  violence,  and 
I  wonder  you  dare  entertain  such  an  idea  for  a 
moment.  But  who  can  stem  the  torrent  of  righteous 
wrath  that  vents  itself  in  imprecations  and  ana- 
themas ?  And  so  it  is  my  most  earnest  desire  that 
our  arch-enemy  and  tyrant  may  die  in  his  bed 
to-night,  or  disappear  and  never  be  seen  again,  or 
that  his  body  may  be  found  to-morrow  morning  in 
the  river  Maraune.  Then  it  would  at  least  be 
clearly  proved  that  there  is  still  a  God  above  to 
judge  and  condemn  sinners.  Amen." 

"Amen,"  growled  his  listeners,  and  folded  their 
horny  hands. 


310      THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"  But,  alas !  it  won't  come  to  pass.  We  shall  live 
to  see  the  miscreant  fatten  and  prosper,  and  grow 
grey  in  this  vale  of  tears.  To-morrow  he  will  ride 
up  triumphantly  and  drag  out  my  Felix  like  a  lamb 
to  the  slaughter.  And  others  who  have  demurred 
by  a  word  or  look  will  be  sacrificed  too.  Indeed  I 
shall  be  very  much  surprised  if  any  of  you  escape 
with  your  lives.  It  is  his  intention,  I  firmly  believe, 
to  extirpate  every  Schrandener  from  off  the  face  of 
the  earth.  Like  a  herd  of  cattle  that  has  been 
purchased  for  the  shambles,  he'll  drive  you  forth  to- 
morrow morning,  leaving  your  widows  and  orphans 
behind  to  weep  and  bewail  your  fate." 

An  ejaculation  of  fury  arose,  so  loud  and  violent 
that  even  the  inciter  of  it  recoiled  in  alarm. 

"  Quietly,  dear  people,  quietly !  No  law-breaking. 
Although,  truly,  there  is  no  informer  amongst  us, 
we  would  sooner  bite  our  tongues  out  than  betray 
each  other.  Hackelberg  knows  that  Thereby 
hangs  a  tale,  eh,  old  friend  ?  But  who  knows  that 
our  Herr  Captain  may  not  himself  be  hanging  about 
outside,  spying  through  the  windows." 

Five  or  six  heads  turned,  and  were  pressed  against 
the  panes. 

"  You  think  he  wouldn't  presume  to  spy  on  us  ? 
Oh,  I  can  assure  you  he  is  not  the  one  to  stop  short 
at  any  low  trick.  I  know  what  you'd  like  to  say, 
and  I  can't  blame  you  for  it — that  if  you  catch  him 
sneaking  around  at  night-time,  woe  betide  him  ! " 

"We'll  strike  him  dead!  Strike  him  dead!" 
fumed  the  topers. 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      311 

"Don't  be  for  ever  screaming  that,  children;  it 
offends  my  ears.  So  much  can  be  achieved  quietly. 
Thus,  bang !  Some  one  has  fired.  Bang  again — 
another  report.  Simply  a  poacher  in  the  forest.  It 
swarms  with  deer,  eh,  Hackelberg  ?  "  He  laughed, 
and  clicked  his  tongue. 

"You  mustn't  sit  dozing  there,  my  man.  One 
would  think  you  had  no  more  blood  in  your  veins 
than  a  jelly-fish.  Have  you  forgotten  how  the  late 
Baron  had  you  flogged  till  your  skin  hung  in  ribbons. 
Potztausend!  How  you  danced  and  bellowed !  It 
was  a  charming  spectacle." 

Hackelberg  writhed  and  grunted  over  his  glass. 

"  At  that  time  you  were  a  sportsman,  a  terror  to 
your  master,  and  your  bullet  never  missed  its  mark 
Drink  away,  man !  It's  difficult  to  believe  now  that 
you  were  ever  a  good  shot." 

"  I  am,  still,"  lisped  the  carpenter. 

"  Ha,  ha ! — pardon  my  laughing,  old  fellow.  To 
begin  with,  you  don't  even  know  what  you've  done 
with  your  gun." 

"  But— I  do." 

"And  besides,  your  hand  has  become  too  slack, 
and  your  honour  has  evaporated,  and  your  courage 
with  it." 

The  carpenter  laughed.  An  evil  light  gleamed 
in  the  corners  of  his  eyes. 

"  What  ?  You  would  maintain  that  you  have  a 
spark  of  honour  left  in  your  composition  when  you 
submit  without  a  murmur  to  your  daughter  being 
brought  to  shame  ?  And  what's  more,  you  can  bear 


312      THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

to  see  her  and  her  seducer  at  large.  Didn't  she, 
your  own  flesh  and  blood,  scorn  you  and  slap  away 
your  proffered  hand?  Ungrateful,  disrespectful 
wench  that  she  is  !  " 

The  carpenter  staggered  to  his  feet. 

"No  one  follow  me,"  he  roared,  and  shook  his 
fist. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  That's  no  business  of  any  one's." 

The  Schrandeners,  even  in  their  wrath,  could  not 
resist  making  fun  of  the  drunkard,  but  Merckel 
signed  to  them  to  let  him  go  in  peace. 

"  He  is  going  to  scratch  up  his  gun  from  the 
dungheap,"  he  explained.  "  Still,  what  good  will  it 
do  ?"  he  added  with  a  sigh,  while  his  eyes  wan- 
dered uneasily  to  the  door.  "  He'll  take  care  not 
to  deliver  himself  into  our  hands  at  night.  To- 
morrow, at  dawn  of  day,  he'll  come,  when  none 
of  you  can  defend  yourselves,  and  hand  you  over 
to  your  executioners,  along  with  my  son  Felix, 
and  none  of  you  will  see  Schranden  again.  So 
drink  your  last,  children — take  leave  of  old  Father 

Merckel Ah !  there  comes  Amalie,"  he  said, 

interrupting  himself,  and  the  lackadaisical  expres- 
sion of  his  face  changed  to  one  of  cheerful  expec- 
tancy. 

The  door  was  thrown  open,  and  Amalie  burst  in 
greatly  excited.  She  whispered  something  hurriedly 
in  his  ear. 

He  beamed,  and  folded  his  fat  hands  as  if  in 
prayer. 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS       313 

"Children,"  he  cried,  "there  is  yet  a  judge  in 
Heaven.  The  Baron  is  in  the  village." 

The  Schrandeners  rose  from  their  seats  yelling 
with  delight. 

"  Where  is  he  ?     Who  has  seen  him  ?  " 

"  Tell  them,  Amalie  !  "  he  urged  the  barmaid,  and 
sank  back  exhausted,  like  a  person  who  is  satisfied 
that  his  day's  work  is  done. 

And  Amalie  told  them.  She  had  waited  till  the 
men  on  guard  had  finished  their  beer,  and  had 
taken  a  little  stroll  in  the  moonlight  to  get  a  breath 
of  fresh  air.  Then  she  had  seen  a  man  coming 
across  the  fields  from  the  Cats'  Bridge.  He  was 
going  in  the  direction  of  the  churchyard,  and  wore 
an  officer's  coat  with  scarlet  collar  and  gold  buttons. 

"Was  he  armed?"  inquired  a  cautious  son  of 
Schranden. 

Yes;  she  had  seen  his  sabre  flash  in  the  moon- 
light. 

This  information  afforded  food  for  reflection. 

"  He  has  gone  to  inspect  the  guard,"  suggested 
some  one,  scratching  his  head. 

Herr  Merckel  laughed  ironically. 

"  Since  how  long  has  it  been  customary  to  review 
sentinels  in  the  churchyard  ? "  he  exclaimed.  "  I 
tell  you  what  he  has  gone  there  for.  He  wishes  to 
pay  his  dear,  chaste  Herr  Papa  a  visit — to  swear 
on  his  grave  that  he  will  avenge  him,  so  soon  as 
you  are  delivered  into  his  hands  as  soldiers.  Con- 
gratulate yourselves  on  the  expedition." 

At  this  juncture  an  ally  cropped  up  on  whom  he 


314      THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

had  ceased  to  count.  The  old  carpenter  rushed  in 
at  the  door,  flourishing  in  his  right  hand  an  old 
fowling-piece,  on  which  hung  straw  and  manure. 
He  seemed  in  a  perfect  transport  of  fury,  beating 
his  breast  and  capering  about  like  one  possessed. 

"Who  said  I  had  no  sense  of  honour,"  he  screamed; 
"  and  that  I  allowed  my  child  to  be  ruined  ?  Where's 
the  hussy  who  has  brought  shame  and  disgrace  on 
my  grey  hairs  ?  I  won't  make  her  a  coffin.  No ; 
I'll  shoot  her  down — I'll  shoot  them  both." 

"Come  along  to  the  churchyard,"  cried  a  voice 
among  the  villagers,  who  felt  their  courage  rising. 

The  old  landlord  winced.  "No,  not  to  the 
churchyard,"  he  exhorted  them.  "In  the  first 
place,  the  ground  is  sacred ;  and  in  the  second,  you 
might  miss  him  there.  If  you  really  wish  to  settle 
matters  quietly  with  him  once  for  all — I'm  not  sup- 
posed to  know  what  you  have  against  him,  and 
don't  wish  to  know — well,  my  advice  to  you  is  to 
go  to  the  Cats'  Bridge.  Just  there,  you  know,  the 
bank  is  wooded — not  thickly,  certainly,  but  thick 
enough  for  you  to  hide  behind." 

"But  suppose  he  returned  by  way  of  the  village 
and  the  drawbridge  ? "  put  in  the  cautious  trooper 
again. 

Herr  Merckel  knew  better.  "  Not  he !"  he  laughed. 
"The  Cats'  Bridge  is  handier." 

"Let's  be  off,  then,  to  the  Cats'  Bridge,"  yelled 
the  carpenter,  bumping  the  butt-end  of  his  gun 
against  the  chairs  and  tables.  There  was  a  general 
stampede.  Herr  Merckel  crammed  bottles  of  schnaps 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      315 

into  as  many  pockets  as  he  could  catch  hold  of,  as 
his  customers  hurried  out. 

"  Take  it,  friends,"  he  cried,  "  and  welcome ! 
Defend  your  honour — defend  your  honour ! " 

Then,  when  the  last  had  gone,  he  mopped  his 
perspiring  brow,  and  folding  his  hands,  exclaimed 
with  an  uneasy  sigh — 

"Ah,  Amalie,  if  only  they  don't  offer  him 
violence ! n 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

ON  reaching  the  highroad  Boleslav  saw  the  figure 
of  a  girl  come  out  from  the  shadow  of  the  church- 
yard yews,  and  advance  to  meet  him  with  hesitating 
footsteps. 

The  moment  to  which  he  had  looked  forward  with 
tender  yearning  for  eight  years  had  come  at  last, 
yet  his  heart  beat  no  quicker.  "You  ought  to  be 
pleased;  congratulate  yourself,"  he  said  inwardly. 
"  She  loves  you  !  She  saved  you  .  .  .  has  freed  you 
from  Regina."  And  something  echoed  sadly  within 
him,  "  From  Regina !  " 

The  contour  of  the  too  slender  figure  was  sharply 
defined  against  the  moonlit  background.  The 
shoulders  looked  angular,  and  her  hips  fell  in 
straight,  ungraceful  lines  from  the  high-waisted 
bodice. 

He  jumped  over  the  ditch,  and  held  out  both  his 
hands  to  her.  With  a  prudish  simper  she  placed 
hers  behind  her  back. 

"  Don't  be  so  impetuous,"  she  lisped. 

He  was  amazed.  The  action  chilled  him,  and 
almost  excited  his  contempt ;  but  he  was  ashamed 
of  the  emotion,  and  tried  to  suppress  it. 

"You  have  kept  me  waiting  a  long  time,  Regina." 


THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS      317 

The  face  she  turned  on  him  was  illuminated  by 
the  moon,  and  he  saw  plainly  how  insignificant 
and  meagre  it  had  become.  She  tossed  her  head 
scornfully. 

"My  name  is  Helene"  she  said.  "I  am  sorry 
you  have  forgotten  it;"  and  pouting,  she  turned 
her  back. 

He  winced.  "  Pardon,"  he  stammered ;  "  it  was 
a  slip  of  the  tongue." 

This  was  certainly  an  unfortunate  beginning. 
She  made  another  grimace,  but  seemed  disposed  to 
accept  his  apology. 

"  Don't  let  us  stay  here,"  she  begged.  "  I'm  afraid." 

"What  of?" 

"  Of  the  churchyard  ...  if  you  will  know." 

Again  he  had  to  struggle  against  a  feeling  of 
contempt.  In  all  she  said  and  did  he  found  himself 
involuntarily  comparing  her  with  Regina,  and  the 
comparison  was  immeasurably  to  her  disadvantage. 

"  You  know  how  timid  I  am,"  she  said,  as  they  re- 
traced their  steps.  "It  was  rash  of  me  to  have  chosen 
this  place  for  an  appointment;  indeed  it  was  exceed- 
ingly rash  to  come  at  all — and  if  it  weren't " 

Instead  of  finishing  her  sentence  she  cast  at  him 
an  affected  sidelong  glance.  Then,  as  he  offered 
to  help  her  over  the  ditch  she  gave  a  little  scream 
and  said,  "  No,  no ! " 

His  half-defined  sensation  of  disappointment  now 
gave  place  to  blank  astonishment.  She  gazed  round 
her  nervously. 

"  We  can't  stay  here  either,"  she  whispered.     "  If 


3i8      THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

I  were  caught  here  alone  with  a  gentleman,  I  believe 
I  should  die  of  shame." 

"  Where  do  you  wish  to  go,  then  ?  H 

"  You  must  decide." 

"  Very  well.     Come  into  the  wood." 

She  clasped  her  hands  together  with  an  agitated 
old-maidish  gesture. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of  ?  "  she  exclaimed. , 
"  At  night  .  .  .  with  a  gentleman  !  " 

He  rubbed  his  eyes.  Was  it  really  possible,  what 
he  heard  and  saw  ?  Could  this  be  Helene,  the 
guardian  angel  to  whom  he  had  looked  up,  as  to  a 
being  belonging  to  another  world  ? 

But  perhaps  it  was  he  who  was  to  blame.  Perhaps 
the  language  of  innocence  and  virtue  was  no  longer 
intelligible  to  him  because  of  the  fair  savage  who 
had  perverted  his  tastes,  and  filled  his  imagination 
with  impure  pictures. 

"Then  let  us  walk  quietly  along  the  highroad," 
he  said. 

"  But  if  some  one  comes  ?  w 

"  We  can  see  that  no  one  is  coming." 

"  Yet  some  one  might  .  .  ." 

He  was  at  a  loss  for  an  answer.  A  silence  ensued, 
and  then  he  said,  "  Won't  you  take  my  arm  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  whether  I  ought,"  replied  the 
love  of  his  youth. 

And  again  they  walked  on  in  silence.  It  almost 
seemed  as  if  they  had  nothing  at  all  to  say  to  each 
other. 

"  Regina  is  waiting ! "  a  voice  cried  within  him. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS      319 

"  How  silent  you  are  ! "  Helene  lisped,  playfully 
pinching  his  elbow  with  two  of  the  finger-tips  that 
lay  on  his  arm.  "  You  wicked  man  !  Haven't  you 
a  little  bit  of  liking  left  for  me  ?  " 

He  felt  he  had  no  right  to  say  "  No."  She  had 
been  true  to  him,  had  trusted  his  word  for  eight 
long  years;  he  dared  not  prove  himself  unworthy 
now  of  her  faith  in  him.  When  he  had  reassured 
her  with  a  stammered  "  Of  course,  of  course,"  she 
sighed,  a  deep-drawn,  languishing  sigh. 

"  I  hear  such  dreadful  things  about  you,"  she  said, 
"that  I  don't  know  what  to  believe.  Tell  me  it's 
not  true." 

"  What  ?  "  he  asked  wearily. 

"Ah,  a  girl  can't  discuss  such  matters.  Immoral 
things,  I  mean.  In  old  days  you  were  a  good,  noble 
fellow,  and  I  can't  believe  it's  true  that  you've 
altered  so  completely." 

She  drew  a  little  closer  to  him.  In  doing  so, 
she  dropped  her  blue  silk  reticule.  As  he  stooped 
— with  her — to  pick  it  up,  the  peak  of  his  cap 
brushed  her  face. 

"Oh,  take  care!"  she  simpered,  drawing  back 
hastily. 

"  A  thousand  pardons ! "  he  answered,  in  a  tone  of 
rigid  politeness,  and  bit  his  lips. 

"  Well,  you  don't  answer  my  question,"  she  con- 
tinued. "  Perhaps  it  is  true,  then,  what  people  say ! 
I  should  be  sorry  to  think  that  poor  unhappy  me 
had  been  so  deceived  in  you.  But  papa  always 
thought  you  would  come  to  a  bad  end."  She  said 


320      THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

this  with  such  a  ludicrous  little  air  of  superiority, 
that  he  could  not  help  smiling. 

She  seemed  to  discern  that  she  was  appearing 
absurd  in  his  eyes,  and  went  on  in  a  deeply  injured 
tone,  "  Ah,  it's  all  very  well  to  laugh  at  a  poor  girl, 
whose  intentions  towards  you  are  so  kind,  and  who 
would  give  anything  to  prevent  your  ruin." 

"  Please,  do  not  trouble  yourself  on  my  account," 
he  replied. 

"  Now  you  are  making  yourself  out  worse  than 
you  are,"  she  interposed.  "  I  know  you  have  a  noble 
nature  at  bottom.  And  if  fate  parts  us  for  ever,  I 
shall  always,  always  keep  a  warm  place  for  you  in 
my  heart  Oh,  what  bitter  tears  have  I  shed  for  you 
many  a  time!  And  I've  prayed  every  night  to  God 
to  keep  the  dear  friend  of  my  youth  from  sin,  and 
from  wicked  revengeful  thoughts,  and  to  give  him  a 
good  conscience." 

"  I  am  afraid  the  behaviour  of  the  Schrandeners 
is  not  exactly  calculated  to  cure  a  man  of  revengeful 
thoughts,"  he  replied. 

She  turned  up  her  sharp  little  nose.  "  The  Schran- 
deners are  an  uncouth  lot,"  she  remarked.  "  And  one 
can't  have  much  to  do  with  them.  I  would  much 
rather  stay  altogether  with  my  aunt  in  Wartenstein. 
There  at  least  one  associates  with  respectable,  well- 
mannered  townspeople,  who  lift  their  hats  to  a  lady 
when  they  meet  her  in  the  street.  Not  a  single 
Schrandener,  with  the  exception  of  Herr  Merckel, 
and  Felix  of  course,  dreams  of  doing  such  a  thing. 
Felix,"  she  added  with  a  sigh,  "  has  the  manners  of 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      321 

a  gentleman  and  an  officer."  Then  as  if  something 
had  suddenly  recalled  the  events  of  the  afternoon  to 
her  mind,  she  screamed,  wrung  her  hands  and  said, 
"  Oh,  Boleslav,  Boleslav !  " 

"  What  is  it,  Helene  ?  " 

"  Boleslav,  how  could  you  be  so  wicked !  Poor, 
poor  Felix !  I  did  not  see  it  myself,  for  I  was  in  the 
back-garden  drawing  radishes,  but  they  told  me 
afterwards  how  you  slashed  at  his  head  with  your 
drawn  sabre,  till  it  poured  with  blood."  She  shud- 
dered and  shook  with  suppressed  sobs.  Then  she 
wrenched  her  hand  out  of  his  arm  and  skipped  to 
the  opposite  side  of  the  road.  "  Go !  I  won't  have 
anything  more  to  do  with  you,"  she  cried.  "  You 
acted  in  a  harsh  and  cruel  manner " 

"  But  you  don't  understand,  dear  Helene,"  he 
protested. 

"And  he  was  your  schoolfellow  and  playmate, 
and  used  to  play  hide-and-seek  with  us  both  in  the 
garden.  He  often  climbed  over  the  hedge  for  you 
to  get  your  ball  when  you  had  tossed  it  too  far,  and 
he  used  to  give  you  guinea-pigs.  Have  you  for- 
gotten everything?  You  ought  to  remember  the 
dear  old  times." 

"  Because  of  the  guinea  pigs,  eh  ?" 

"Oh, — and  to  think  that  you  have  shut  him  up 
in  the  cold  dark  churchj  Papa  is  of  opinion  that 
you  have  no  business  to  do  it ;  he  says  he  will  report 
your  conduct  to  the  kommando,  and  that  probably 
you  will  get  the  worst  of  it" 

She  resembled  her  father  so  little,  he  thought,  that 

X 


322      THE   SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS 

his  words  of  thunder  when  repeated  by  her  lips 
sounded  the  most  insipid  chatter.  And  it  was  on 
this  cackling  little  hen  that  he  had  let  the  great 
question  of  to  be,  or  not  to  be,  hang ! 

She  had  now  come  back  to  his  side,  and  with  a 
mincing  gesture  pushed  her  hand  again  through 
his  arm. 

"They  say  that  you  intend  carrying  him  off 
to-morrow  a  prisoner,  to  be  tried  by  a  court- 
martial,  and  that  he  will  be  shot  dead  for  certain. 
But  it  must  be  a  lie.  It  is,  isn't  it  ?  You  couldn't 
do  such  a  thing ;  I  wouldn't  believe  it  of  you.  You 
are  not  so  bad  as  all  that." 

He  suppressed  an  exclamation  of  impatience. 

"  Say  you  won't  ? "  she  besought,  wiping  her 
eyes.  "  If  /  ask  you,  dear  Boleslav,  to  let  him  go 
free,  you  will  grant  me  the  favour — I  know  you 
will." 

She  spoke  calmly,  as  if  the  request  she  made 
were  merely  a  casual  one.  But  there  was  secret 
anxiety  in  the  eyes  that  glanced  at  his  suspi- 
ciously. 

"  Dear,  dear  Boleslav ! "  she  continued  more 
urgently,  her  arm  trembling  violently,  "  if  you  care 
for  me  the  very  least  little  bit,  don't  let  us  part 
before  you  have  promised  me  this.  I  will  cherish 
your  memory  always  in  my  heart,  if  Fate  is  cruel 
enough  to  separate  us  for  ever,  and  will  at  least 
never  cease  to  pray  for  you  and  bless  you." 

"  I  am  sorry,  Helene,"  he  said,  moved  to  speak- 
ing more  warmly  by  her  now  evident  distress,  "  if 


THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS      323 

I  must  seem  hard  and  inexorable  to  you.  But  it  is  all 
of  no  good.  Your  wish  cannot  possibly  be  fulfilled." 

She  had  not  in  the  least  expected  this  answer, 
and  regarded  him  for  a  second  with  a  cold,  angry 
expression.  Then  suddenly  she  burst  out  weeping, 
and  sank  against  the  trunk  of  a  tree  for  support, 
with  her  thin  hands  before  her  face. 

At  the  same  moment  the  report  of  a  gun  was 
heard  in  the  distance,  the  echo  of  which  slowly 
rolled  through  the  woodlands. 

Helene  gave  a  frightened  cry,  and,  throwing  up 
her  hands,  sobbed  out — 

"Now  they  have  shot  him  for  certain,  because 
you,  inhuman  monster,  have  commanded  itl  Oh 
dear !  have  you  no  mercy  ?  " 

Listening  in  the  direction  from  which  the  gun- 
shot had  come,  he  did  his  best  to  soothe  her. 

That  the  shot  had  anything  to  do  with  Felix 
Merckel  was,  of  course,  out  of  the  question. 

It  had  undoubtedly  been  fired  in  the  wood,  on  the 
farther  side  of  the  Castle,  probably  by  a  poacher  on 
the  track  of  a  wild  red  deer. 

But  she  sobbed  more  violently  than  ever — 

"It's  all  very  well  .  .  .  but  you  .  .  .  you  .  .  . 
intend  dragging  him  out  to  his  death — you  know 
you  do." 

Her  increasing  agitation  began  to  bewilder  Bole- 
slav.  He  assured  her  he  would  do  everything  in 
his  power  to  ameliorate  Felix's  sentence.  He  him- 
self would  testify  to  his  being  hopelessly  intoxicated 
at  the  time.  His  old  rancour  against  himself,  his 


324      THE  SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

wounded  vanity,  all  should  be  cited  in  extenuation 
of  his  offence,  and  might  influence  his  judges  to 
mildness. 

But  she  was  not  satisfied,  and  at  last  dropped  on 
her  knees  in  the  clay  soil,  and  cried  aloud — 

"  Be  merciful !  be  noble !     Save  him  I " 

"  For  God's  sake,  stand  up !  " 

"  No,  I  shall  not.  In  the  dust  111  kneel  to  you 
and  implore  your  mercy." 

"But  don't  you  see  that  I  shall  be  imputing  to 
myself  a  murderous  design  if  I  represent  him  as 
innocent  ?  " 

"Never  mind,"  she  sobbed.  "If  you  really  love 
me,  you  won't  object  to  making  this  little  sacrifice 
for  my  sake." 

Then  it  began  to  dawn  on  him  that  it  was  not 
for  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  she  had  summoned 
him  to  her  side,  but,  in  accordance  with  a  precon- 
ceived plan,  to  make  use  of  his  love  for  her  on 
behalf  of  another.  And  of  such  stuff  as  this  the 
woman  was  made,  of  whom  for  long  years  he  had 
considered  himself  unworthy !  This  was  the  radiant 
angel  who  had  represented  his  ideal  of  purity  and 
goodness,  whose  name  he  had  held  too  sacred  to 
mention  in  the  same  breath  as  Regina's ! 

And  Regina,  the  dishonoured,  the  outcast ! 
What  worlds  she  seemed  now  above  this  sly 
virtue ! 

A  wild  laugh  burst  from  him. 
"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  at  once  that  you  were 
in  love  with  some  one  else  ?  " 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      325 

She  started.  "That  is  a  slander  1"  she  cried. 
"  I  am  an  honest,  innocent  girl !  " 

"  Well,  I  presume  you  are  betrothed  ?  * 

She  began  to  cry  again,  though  even  in  her  grief 
she  did  not  forget  to  carefully  brush  the  mud  from 
her  skirts. 

"Oh,  Boleslav,"  she  wailed,  "it's  all  your  fault. 
Why  did  you  keep  me  waiting  for  you  so  long  ? 
And  why  have  you  given  people  so  much  cause  to 
gossip  about  you  ?  And  then  you  know,  there  was 
papa!  His  consent  could  never  have  been  won! 
What  was  I,  poor  girl,  to  do  ?  " 

"  Please,  say  no  more.  It  really  doesn't  matter  1 " 
he  broke  in  cheerily. 

"  You  aren't  angry  with  me,  then  ?  " 

"  Oh  no !  not  in  the  least ! " 

In  silence  he  accompanied  Helene  back  to  the 
village,  took  a  friendly  farewell  of  her,  and  promised 
to  do  all  he  could  to  save  her  fianct. 

She  thanked  him,  made  a  formal  little  curtsey, 
and  they  parted. 

And  so  ended  the  great  love  of  his  life. 

As  he  watched  the  shadow  of  her  meagre  little 
figure  disappear  behind  the  houses,  his  whole  soul 
cried  out  for  Regina  in  uncontrollable  boundless 
jubilation.  Now  the  road  was  free — free  for  sinful, 
exultant  love. 

But  what  was  sin,  when  virtue  had  collapsed  so 
deplorably  ?  How  could  there  be  any  evil,  when 
what  was  good  appeared  so  absurd  and  contemp- 
tible? 


326      THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"Take  her  in  your  arms  —  crush  her  to  your 
breast  —  even  to-morrow  shall  not  cheat  you  of 
her.  .  .  .  She  shall  follow  you  to  the  camp,  from 
battle  to  battle — let  her  wear  men's  clothes  like  that 
Leonore  Prohaska,  the  heroine  whom  all  Germany 
admires  and  honours ! " 

"  Regina !  Regina ! "  he  carolled  anew,  stretching 
out  his  arms  exultingly,  in  anticipation.  He  bounded 
over  the  moonlit  meadows,  and  higher  and  darker 
every  minute  rose  the  wooded  bank  of  the  river 
before  him. 

She  would  be  standing  on  the  Cats'  Bridge  looking 
out  for  him,  as  she  had  always  done. 

"  Regina ! "  he  shouted  over  the  river.  But  no 
answer  came.  Deep  silence  all  around.  There  was 
only  a  faint  rustle  among  the  young  leaves  of  the 
willows  that  sounded  like  slumberous  breathing 
through  half-closed  lips;  and  a  gentle  splashing 
came  up  from  the  invisible  river.  Its  waters  were 
low,  and  broke  on  the  sharp  pebbles.  He  climbed 
the  steep  steps. 

"  Regina ! "  he  called  again.  Still  silence.  Then 
he  saw  that  in  the  centre  of  the  plank,  the  rickety 
hand-rail  had  given  way :  rotten  splinters  hung  on 
either  side.  Horror-stricken,  he  looked  down  at 
the  river. 

On  its  silver  surface  floated  a  woman's  corpse. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

WHEN  the  Schrandeners  left  the  Black  Eagle  they 
dispersed  to  their  homes,  with  the  intention  of 
arming  themselves  to  the  best  of  their  ability. 

Half  of  them  did  not  turn  up  again.  The  others 
— about  twenty  in  number — careered  in  detachments 
behind  the  limping  carpenter,  round  the  Castle  island 
in  the  direction  of  the  Cats'  Bridge.  Once  united 
under  the  shelter  of  the  bushes,  they  believed  they 
would  be  unseen  and  unfollowed.  They  sneaked 
in  silence  through  the  damp  grass;  only  the  old 
drunkard  insisted  on  keeping  up  an  incessant  chatter 
and  mumbling.  He  conversed  excitedly  with  his 
gun  as  if  it  had  been  a  human  being — shook  and 
exhorted  it  not  to  fail  him.  From  time  to  time  he 
held  the  butt-end  to  his  cheek  in  an  aiming  posi- 
tion, and  when  his  range  of  vision  became  confused 
by  the  sight  of  his  own  dancing  fingers,  or  imagi- 
nary bats  and  fireflies,  he  would  take  a  long  pull 
at  his  bottle  to  clear  it 

On  reaching  the  Cats'  Bridge,  which  darkly 
spanned  the  river,  its  rivets  glittering  in  the  moon- 
light, the  Schrandeners  divided,  some  going  to  one 
side  of  it  and  the  rest  keeping  to  the  other.  As 
noiselessly  as  their  half-drunken  condition  would 
permit,  they  slid  down  the  decline  in  order  to  screen 


328      THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

themselves  behind  the  alders.  Those  who  had  fire- 
arms, led  by  the  old  carpenter,  stationed  themselves 
on  the  edge  of  the  sand-bank,  so  that  they  might 
bring  their  victim  down  from  the  plank  bridge, 
should  he  by  any  chance  escape  the  meditated 
attack  from  below  of  pikes,  scythes,  and  flails. 

For  the  space  of  five  minutes  there  was  scarcely 
a  sound  audible,  beyond  the  crackling  and  swishing 
among  the  twigs  caused  by  some  one  stretching  out 
a  hand  for  his  bottle  of  schnaps.  Death-like  still- 
ness reigned  too  on  the  island. 

Then  the  carpenter,  whose  eyes  were  momentarily 
sharpened  by  brandy,  and  who  was  on  the  alert  like 
a  tiger  crouching  for  a  spring,  discerned  a  figure 
emerge  and  walk  slowly  and  softly  on  to  the  Cats' 
Bridge.  It  must  have  been  cowering  in  the  boscage 
above,  on  the  opposite  bank,  for  several  minutes. 

As  the  figure  came  out  of  the  shadow  into  the 
full  light  of  the  moon,  he  recognised  his  daughter. 
Clearly  she  had  discovered  the  assassins,  and  was 
now  on  her  way  to  warn  the  Freiherr  of  his  peril. 

"  Go  back,  you  vermin  ! "  he  cried,  all  a  sportsman's 
fury  at  being  deprived  of  his  certain  prey  taking 
possession  of  him  and  clouding  his  erratic  brain. 

She  ducked  her  head,  but  glided  forwards,  holding 
on  to  the  hand-rail. 

"  Back,  or  I'll  aim !  " 

With  one  frantic  leap  she  tried  to  propel  herself 
forwards,  but  a  shot  was  fired  at  the  same  instant, 
and  she  sank  noiselessly  against  the  rotten  balus- 
trade. It  snapped  in  two,  and  a  dark,  lifeless  mass 


THE  SINS   OF   THE   FATHERS      329 

fell  from  the  heights  of  the  Cats'  Bridge  into  the  river. 
The  water  rose  and  fell  in  sparkling  cascades.  In 
the  shallow  bottom  the  stones  rolled  and  ground 
against  each  other. 

Then  slowly  the  whirling,  swaying  body  rose  to 
the  surface  of  the  ripples,  till  the  face  gazed  upwards 
and  was  brilliantly  illumined  by  the  moon. 

A  profound  stillness  reigned  on  the  bank. 

Motionless,  and  with  bated  breath,  every  one 
stared  down  on  the  dead,  upturned  face,  with  its 
wide-open  eyes,  which  seemed  full  of  warning  and 
rebuke.  A  corner  of  her  skirt  had  caught  on  a 
gnarled  stump  of  a  tree,  which  projected  into  the 
river;  thus  she  was  anchored,  and  prevented  from 
drifting  down  with  the  stream. 

Softly  and  cautiously,  as  if  playing  with  it,  the 
current  moved  the  body  to  and  fro,  and  no  one, 
however  much  he  might  wish  to  avoid  it,  could  help 
seeing  the  head  as  it  reposed  on  the  water. 

The  silence  lasted  a  full  ten  minutes,  and  then 
one  of  the  Schrandeners,  who  had  helped  to  incar- 
nate the  evil  conscience  of  the  village,  shyly  with 
bent  head  slunk  away,  making  the  bushes  crackle 
and  rustle  as  he  went.  A  second  followed ;  a  third, 
a  fourth,  .  .  .  until  at  last  the  scene  of  the  catas- 
trophe was  deserted. 

The  carpenter,  who  had  been  contemplating  his 
daughter's  dead  face,  grumbling,  and  talking  to 
himself  the  while,  found  himself  alone. 

Suddenly  he  roared  out  hoarsely,  "  Fire !  fire ! 
fire ! "  and  hurled  his  gun  at  the  corpse.  It  went 


330      THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS 

splashing  to  the  bottom  of  the  river,  and  he  stag- 
gered after  the  others  as  fast  as  his  legs  would 
carry  him. 

Nothing  stirred  now  near  the  Cats'  Bridge. 
Boleslav  was  safe! 

•  •  •  •  • 

Some  time  elapsed  before  he  was  able  to  take  in 
what  he  saw.  He  stared  in  stupefaction,  first  at  the 
floating  corpse,  then  at  the  broken  balustrade. 

"You  should  have  had  it  repaired  long  ago,"  he 
thought,  and  toyed  dazedly  with  the  fragments. 

Then,  as  if  waking  from  a  dream,  he  went  back 
to  the  bank,  and  climbed  down  the  ravine,  where  he 
found  broken  branches  lying  about,  and  freshly- 
made  footmarks.  A  vague  suspicion  of  what  had 
happened  dawned  on  him,  and  then  quickly  died 
out;  the  hope  that  there  might  yet  be  time  to 
restore  her  to  life  absorbing  his  mind,  to  the 
exclusion  of  every  other  emotion. 

He  crawled  cautiously  along  the  tree -stump 
as  near  the  body  as  he  'could  get,  and  drew  it 
ashore  with  the  hilt  of  his  sabre.  .  .  .  Now  she 
lay  on  the  shining  sand,  and  a  hundred  little  rivulets 
ran  from  every  part  of  her.  He  took  his  sabre- 
blade  and  cut  her  wet  jacket  off  her,  and  became 
aware  of  the  blood  that  had  dyed  her  chemise 
crimson.  As  he  ripped  this  away,  too,  he  found 
the  fount  from  which  the  stream  flowed  in  a  wound 
beneath  her  left  breast. 

Now  he  knew  what  that  gunshot  had  meant. 
And  when  the  first  wild  impulse  for  vengeance, 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      331 

which  seemed  to  scream  in  his  ear,  "  Go  and  burn 
their  houses  to  the  ground,  and  hew  them  down 
till  you  yourself  are  hewn  down ! "  had  subsided 
and  consumed  its  own  rage,  he  flung  himself  on 
the  corpse,  and  broke  into  passionate  weeping. 
He  lay  thus  for  a  long  time,  then  slowly  rose,  and, 
bearing  her  on  his  shoulders,  carried  her  through 
the  footprints  of  her  murderers  up  the  steep  incline 
over  the  Cats'  Bridge  to  the  island.  She  was  no 
light  burden,  and  three  times  he  sank  on  to  his 
knees,  gasping  under  her  weight. 

Near  the  shrubbery  that  surrounded  the  cottage 
he  was  obliged  to  put  her  down,  for  he  feared  he 
should  swoon  from  his  exertions.  She  lay  on  the 
same  spot  where  he  had  found  her,  motionless  and 
bleeding,  after  his  father's  funeral. 

Now  as  then  the  moonbeams  played  on  the  still 
pale  face ;  only  now  she  would  not  revive,  could 
never  be  recalled  to  life. 

"  They  have  succeeded  at  last  I "  he  cried,  break- 
ing into  a  loud,  bitter  laugh. 

A  sharp  spasm  of  pain  shot  through  the  back  of 
his  head ;  he  felt  as  if  he  must  go  raving  mad  if 
those  fixed,  glazed  eyes  continued  to  look  up  at  him 
much  longer. 

But  his  anxiety  to  get  the  corpse  interred  before 
he  went  away  brought  him  to  his»  senses.  The 
Schrandeners  were  capable  of  laying  the  murdered 
girl  beneath  the  earth  somewhere  in  the  heart  of  the 
forest ;  thereby  removing  all  evidence  of  their  crime, 
and  crippling  the  hands  of  justice. 


332      THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

The  one  person  he  felt  could  be  relied  on  to  do 
what  was  right  in  the  matter  was  the  old  pastor. 
Much  as  he  might  have  denounced  and  slandered 
her  hitherto,  he,  at  all  events,  would  not  be  a  party 
to  this  last  foul  outrage.  Boleslav  therefore  resolved 
to  rouse  him  from  his  bed,  and  to  bring  him  to  the 
spot,  so  that  later  when  he  himself  was,  God  knew 
where,  a  witness  might  not  be  wanting. 

The  belfry  clock  struck  eleven  as  he  reached  the 
village  street.  The  sentinels  were  parading  noise- 
lessly up  and  down  in  front  of  the  church  door, 
otherwise  the  whole  world  was  apparently  wrapped 
in  profound  slumber. 

But  from  one  of  the  cottages  he  passed,  loud 
blows,  oaths,  and  scolding  cries  fell  upon  his  ear. 
He  looked  over  the  hedge,  and  saw  the  green  coffin 
which  was  the  carpenter  Hackelberg's  trade-mark, 
looming  uncannily  from  its  stand. 

The  drunkard's  imbecile  formula  occurred  to  him. 
"His  wish  is  likely  to  be  fulfilled,"  he  thought; 
"  he  has  now  the  chance  of  making  a  coffin  for  his 
daughter ; "  and  in  a  bitterly  ironical  mood  he  deter- 
mined to  communicate  to  the  old  man,  if  he  were 
still  in  possession  of  his  faculties,  his  child's  terrible 
end,  and  to  demand  the  fulfilment  of  his  promise. 

He  entered  the  gloomy  passage.  From  a  room 
on  the  right  proceeded  the  gurgling  cries  of  the 
thick,  drunken  voice  which  excited  his  involuntary 
disgust.  Mingled  with  it  was  a  spasmodic  hissing 
and  whizzing  that  he  could  not  explain,  till  he  had 
lifted  the  latch  and  witnessed  a  spectacle  so  hor- 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      333 

rible  and  revolting  that,  rich  as  the  day  had  been 
for  him  in  horrors,  he  recoiled  before  it  faint  and 
shuddering. 

The  old  carpenter,  his  clothes  half  torn  off,  bleeding 
from  the  throat  and  arms,  the  moonlight  bringing 
into  prominence  the  hideous  filthiness  of  the  room, 
plunged  about  as  if  seized  with  an  attack  of  St. 
Vitus's  dance.  Every  limb  quivered  violently,  and 
he  foamed  at  the  mouth.  His  eyes  rolled  in  a 
maniacal  frenzy,  and  the  muscles  of  his  face 
twitched  convulsively.  A  huge  plane  hung  from 
his  right  hand,  the  handle  of  which,  formed  in  the 
shape  of  a  ring,  had  grazed  his  knuckles,  and  which 
he  vainly  endeavoured  to  steady  with  his  palsied 
fingers.  Whenever  he  came  to  a  wooden  surface, 
whether  on  the  table,  the  walls,  or  the  planks  that 
covered  the  floor,  he  tried  to  plane  it,  and  this 
caused  the  hissing  sound  which  always  ended 
abruptly  with  a  rasping  jerk. 

"  It'll  soon  be  ready  now  ! "  he  cried.  "  One 
more  blow"  .  .  .  ssh  .  .  .  "and  the  shaping's 
done."  .  .  .  ssh  . . .  ssh  ..."  Damn  the  bats  .  .  .  why 
can't  they  leave  a  man  alone  ?  "  .  .  .  ssh  .  .  .  ssh  .  .  . 
"  Forwards  .  .  .  Listen  !  Fire  !  fire  !  The  Castle's 
on  fire !  Fire  I  fire !  Keep  out  of  the  way,  you 
baggage — if  you  tell  any  one  you've  seen  me — with 
the  tinder  and  the  bundle  of  flax"  .  .  .  ssh  .  .  . 
ssh  ..."  I  won't  finish  your  coffin."  ...  ss  ... 
ssh  .  .  .  "Get  out  of  my  sight,  you  snake."  He 
lunged  against  Boleslav,  who,  with  a  presentiment 
of  what  ghastly  disclosures  were  to  be  made  to 


334      THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

him,  had  planted  himself  in  his  way.  The  drunkard 
appeared  to  be  labouring  under  the  delusion  that 
Boleslav  was  his  daughter.  "  Go  back — off  the 
Cats'  Bridge — the  Baron  shall  get  his  deserts  to- 
day— back— or "  He  laid  the  plane  against 

his  cheek,  and  took  aim;  then,  as  if  confronted  by 
another  vision,  he  yelled  once  more  at  the  top  of 
his  voice,  trembling  with  fright,  "  Fire  !  fire  !  "  and 
made  an  attempt  to  creep  under  the  table,  planing 
the  tattered  tails  of  his  coat  as  he  went.  "  Fire ! 
fire !  Get  away — I  didn't  do  it !  My  daughter  is 
a  liar.  .  .  .  The  flames  are  spreading.  Fire !  fire ! 
Look  at  the  flames  ! " 

With  the  flames  he  seemed  to  reach  the  zenith  of 
his  delirium,  and  then  gradually  descended  again  to 
the  bats,  which  he  made  a  feint  of  chivying  out  of 
his  way  with  his  arms  and  legs,  and  then  resumed 
planing  the  legs  of  the  table. 

"  Nearly  ready,  dear  sir."  .  .  .  ssh  .  .  .  ssh  .  .  . 
"  Just  a  couple  more  boards."  ...  ss  ...  ssh  .  .  . 
"My  daughter's  debauched  .  .  .  There  can  be 
no  mistake,"  ...  ss  ...  ssh  .  .  .  "finely  polished." 
...  ss  ..."  Now  there  she  lies,  and  will  howl  no 
more.  .  .  .  ssh  ..."  What,  not  gone  yet  ?  Your 
father'll  drive  you  out."  ...  ss  ...  ssh  .  .  . 
"The  Baron  will  get  a  shot  lodged  in  his  ribs 
to-day."  .  .  .  ssh  .  .  .  "We  want  extra  hands. 
Furrah,  men! — Hurrah,  Merckel!"  ...  ss  ... 
"Come  off  the  plank — down  from  the  bridge,  you 
beast.  Have  you  any  more  French  behind  you? 
ou  don't  go  at  once 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      335 

Here  he  made  for  Boleslav.  He  looked  in  the 
moonlight,  with  his  tottering  legs,  his  palsied  head, 
and  his  flapping  arms,  like  some  ghastly  phantasmal 
monster,  whose  limbs  were  pieced  together  by  a 
hundred  movable  joints.  Just  as  he  was  reaching 
his  goal,  the  flames  began  to  pursue  him  once  more, 
and  to  escape  from  them  he  crept,  with  a  piercing 
shriek  this  time,  beneath  a  stack  of  wood,  where, 
with  dense  swarms  of  bats,  the  fearful  cycle  of  his 
delusions  recommenced. 

Boleslav,  shaken  to  the  foundations  of  his  being 
by  the  awful  truth  the  old  man  had  revealed  in  his 
delirious  ravings,  felt  he  could  no  longer  bear  to  gaze 
on  such  a  hideous  scene. 

He  fled  from  the  house  as  if  the  imaginary  flames 
which  so  terrified  the  maniac  were  pursuing  him  too, 
and  he  did  not  pause  till  he  had  left  the  village 
behind  him,  and  found  himself  encompassed  by  the 
shadows  of  the  ruins. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  church  clock  had  struck  the  midnight  hour,  by 
the  time  Boleslav  got  back  to  the  spot  where  he  had 
left  Regina's  soulless  body. 

A  protecting  darkness  now  veiled  the  white  face, 
for  the  moon  had  passed  behind  a  bank  of  clouds, 
yet  even  from  the  darkness  the  great  lustreless  eyes 
gazed  appealingly  up  at  him,  as  if  asking  a  question 
to  which  there  was  no  answer  here  or  hereafter. 

He  threw  himself  on  his  knees  beside  her,  and, 
saying  good-bye  to  the  two  stars,  whose  light  had 
gone  out,  he  tenderly  closed  their  lids.  She  now 
looked  as  if  she  were  asleep,  and  he  breathed  more 
freely.  He  felt  something  almost  approaching  a 
painful  satisfaction  as  he  watched  by  her.  "You 
belong  to  me,  only  to  me,"  he  said.  "No  one  else 
shall  have  any  part  or  lot  in  you,  in  death  as  in  life." 

What  he  had  resolved  to  do,  in  a  spirit  of  defiance, 
as  he  left  the  murderer's  house,  in  his  present  calmer 
mood  still  seemed  the  most  commendable  course  to 
take.  Past  events  appeared  to  him  now  like  a  brazen 
chain  of  guilt,  to  which  for  years  one  link  after  the 
other  had  been  added.  And  into  this  chain  had  been 
forged,  till  it  was  made  a  component  part  of  it,  an 
unlawful  love.  For  the  sake  of  this  love  which  was 
336 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS      337 

sinful  as  hell  and  pure  as  heaven,  that  which  only 
the  silence  of  the  night  had  witnessed  should  in 
the  silence  of  the  night  be  buried — buried  with 
this  corpse. 

What  retribution  could  be  rendered  by  the  poor 
tribunal  of  man,  in  a  case  in  which  fate  had  so 
clearly  interfered  and  pronounced  sentence  ?  Would 
it  not  be  profaning  the  dead  body  to  drag  it  into 
the  glare  of  publicity,  and  so  expose  it  to  the  snivel- 
ling curiosity  of  the  vulgar  herd  ? 

Should  he  permit  the  priest  who  had  cursed  her 
in  her  lifetime  to  consign  her  to  the  grave  with  a 
perfunctory  blessing  ?  And  would  not  this  involve 
her  being  laid  in  a  coffin  manufactured  by  her  father's 
blood-guilty  hands,  followed  by  his  accomplices  as 
mourners,  hooting  and  throwing  stones  ? 

Ah  no;  it  should  not  be!  She  should  be  the 
prey,  now  she  was  dead,  of  no  Schrandener  wolves. 
He  alone,  for  whom  she  had  lived,  for  whom  she 
had  gone  to  meet  her  death,  must  prepare  her  last 
resting-place.  He  would  hide  her  in  the  lap  of 
mother  earth,  and  smooth  the  turf  so  carefully 
above  her  that  no  body-snatcher  would  ever  dis- 
cover and  profane  the  holy  spot  He  lifted  the 
corpse  in  his  arms  and  carried  it  to  the  grass-plot. 
The  moon  had  risen  high  in  the  heavens  and  shrouded 
the  landscape  in  a  veil  of  silver.  From  the  dewy 
glistening  grass  rose  the  fragments  of  the  old  Diana 
statue  in  dazzling  whiteness.  Here  he  bore  her 
and  let  her  sink  on  the  turf,  her  neck  supported  by 
the  cracked  pedestal,  so  that  with  her  face  turned 

Y 


338     THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

towards  the  moon,  she  looked  as  if  she  had  fallen 
asleep  in  a  sitting  position.  Then  he  sought  a  burial- 
place.  His  eye  fell  on  the  black,  four-cornered 
patch  which  Regina  had  intended  for  his  father's 
grave.  How  vividly  she  came  back  to  him,  as  she 
had  looked  then,  in  the  full  splendour  of  her  sun- 
burnt strength  and  beauty,  driving  the  heavy  spade 
into  the  ground  with  her  naked  foot,  as  if  it  had  been 
a  ramrod.  If  he  had  not  then  interrupted  her  in  her 
work,  he  would  to-day  have  been  spared  his. 

The  service  of  love  she  had  wished  to  render  his 
father  it  was  now  his  duty  to  do  for  her.  What 
could  be  simpler  than  to  go  on  digging  deeper  the 
grave  that  she  had  begun  that  day,  little  dreaming 
it  would  be  her  own  ? 

He  fetched  a  spade  from  the  kitchen,  where  the 
fire  she  had  kindled  was  still  smouldering,  and 
began  with  all  his  strength  to  throw  up  the  sod. 
From  time  to  time  he  paused  and  glanced  at  her. 
She  seemed  well  content  to  sit  there  in  the  bright 
moonlight,  and  quietly  contemplate  his  labours. 
Now  and  then,  when  the  shadow  of  a  cloud  flickered 
on  her  face,  he  half  fancied  she  moved,  and  was 
going  to  rise  to  her  feet. 

Then  that  tormenting  scepticism  that  all  ex- 
perience in  the  presence  of  their  beloved  dead 
overwhelmed  him.  He  called  her  name  and  rushed 
to  her  side.  Her  hand  rested  on  Diana's  head, 
which  lay  close  to  her  in  the  grass.  He  dared  not 
touch  her,  and  stole  back  to  his  work,  his  face 
buried  in  his  hands. 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     339 

The  grave  began  to  grow  deep,  and  he  feared 
that  soon  he  might  not  be  able  to  climb  on  to  the 
edge  again.  He  went  to  get  the  flower-stand  out 
of  the  green-house,  on  the  shelves  of  which  she 
had  ranged  the  plates  and  dishes  in  such  beautiful 
order. 

"  No  one  shall  eat  off  them  again ! "  he  said, 
and  dashed  the  earthenware  crockery  on  the  floor, 
where  it  broke  to  atoms.  He  placed  the  stand 
against  the  inside  of  the  grave,  to  serve  as  a 
ladder,  and  then  continued  throwing  out  the  soil 
as  before. 

By  the  time  the  clock  in  the  village  had  boomed 
out  the  second  hour  of  the  morning,  his  melancholy 
task  was  finished.  He  had  no  coffin  for  her,  but 
to  prevent  her  lying  on  the  black  moist  earth,  he 
fetched  from  his  bed,  which  she  had  always  taken 
pains  to  keep  so  daintily  clean  and  tidy,  a  quilt, 
and  two  feather  pillows,  and  lined  the  grave  with 
them. 

And  now  the  time  for  parting  had  come.  He 
raised  her  in  his  arms,  and  bore  her  to  the  edge  of 
the  pit ;  then  sitting  down  on  the  mound  of  turf  to 
take  breath,  he  lifted  her  head  on  to  his  knees. 
Never  before  had  he  been  able  to  look  at  her  so 
leisurely,  for  he  had  never  dared  trust  himself  to 
let  his  eyes  rest  on  her  for  long.  Now  he  studied 
lovingly  every  feature  of  the  dead  face,  caressed  the 
stiff  cheeks,  and  wrung  the  water  from  her  heavy 
curls.  A  cold  shiver  passed  through  his  frame. 
He  had  held  the  wet  body,  with  its  dripping  skirts, 


340     THE   SINS   OF   THE    FATHERS 

so  long  in  his  arms,  that  his  own  clothes  were 
damp  from  the  contact. 

"  Farewell ! "  he  murmured,  and  kissed  her  on 
the  forehead.  He  was  going  to  kiss  her  on  the 
lips,  but  drew  back  quickly. 

"  You  disdained  them  in  life,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  so  in  death  they  may  not  belong  to  you." 

And  then  he  edged  the  corpse  nearer  the  grave, 
and  jumped  down  on  to  the  top  step  of  the  stand. 
Slowly  and  cautiously  he  lifted  her  in,  stretched  her 
on  the  quilt,  and  cushioned  her  head  on  the  soft 
pillows. 

Once  more  he  wanted  to  kiss  her,  but  was  afraid 
to  leave  the  stand  that  bridged  her  feet;  so  he 
contented  himself  with  stroking  her  hands,  which 
he  could  reach  from  where  he  sat;  then  he  clam- 
bered out  of  the  grave,  drawing  the  stand  after  him 
with  the  top  of  the  spade-handle.  But  afterwards 
he  found  he  had  forgotten  to  draw  a  corner  of  the 
quilt  over  her  face,  to  prevent  the  soil  from  falling 
on  it.  "  Flowers,"  he  thought,  "  will  do  as  well ; " 
and  he  went  in  search  of  them.  Under  the  trees  in 
the  park  grew  great  masses  of  anemones  and  blue- 
bells, and  there  were  violets  and  primroses,  that  she 
herself  had  cultivated,  in  the  garden. 

He  gathered  all  he  could  see  in  the  uncertain 
light.  The  anemones  and  primroses  had  closed 
their  calyxes  in  sleep,  but  the  violets  looked  up  at 
him  with  their  confiding  blue  eyes,  as  if  inviting  him 
to  pluck  them. 

With  his  hands  full  he  returned  to  the  grave,  and, 


THE  SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     341 

as  he  looked  down  into  it,  stood  spell-bound  at 
what  he  saw.  It  was  indeed  a  picture  of  almost 
magic  loveliness.  The  moon  had  passed  its  height, 
and,  shining  at  the  foot  of  the  grave,  illuminated  it 
on  the  east  side,  so  that  the  head,  reposing  in  its 
deep  resting-place,  was  thrown  out  clearly  in  relief, 
while  the  blood-stained  body  was  hidden  in  darkest 
shadow. 

The  still,  white  face  seemed  to  smile  up  at  him, 
as  if  lapped  in  blissful  dreams. 

He  threw  the  flowers  aside,  and,  crouching  down 
in  the  loose  earth  he  had  thrown  up,  stared  and  stared 
down  on  her,  holding  a  solemn  and  silent  wake. 

Thoughts  chased  each  other  through  his  brain  in 
a  confused  whirl,  until  gradually  he  came  to  a  calmer 
and  more  rational  frame  of  mind. 

He  reflected  on  how  she  had  gone  through  life 
despised  and  guilt-laden,  and  yet  unrepentant,  ap- 
pearing to  be  satisfied  with  her  past  rather  than 
regretting  it. 

Once,  in  an  hour  of  dire  perplexity,  he  had  asked 
himself  whether  it  was  the  dull  indifference  of  the 
brute  or  the  wiles  of  a  devil  that  made  her  will  so 
strong  and  her  conscience  so  lax,  and  he  had  not 
known  what  to  answer. 

To-day,  when  it  was  too  late,  her  true  nature  was 
revealed  to  him. 

No,  she  had  not  been  a  brute  or  a  devil,  but 
simply  a  grand  and  complete  human  being.  One 
cf  those  perfect,  fully  developed  individuals  such 
as  Nature  created  before  a  herding  social  system, 


342     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

with  its  paralysing  ordinances,  bungled  her  handi- 
work, when  every  youthful  creature  was  allowed  to 
bloom  unhindered  into  the  fulness  of  its  power,  and 
to  remain,  in  good  and  in  evil,  part  and  parcel  of 
the  natural  life. 

And  as  he  pondered  thus,  it  seemed  to  him  that 
the  mists  which  obscure  the  source  of  human  exist- 
ence from  human  knowledge  had  dispersed  a  little, 
and  that  he  had  been  granted  a  deeper  glimpse  than 
most  men  into  the  fathomless  gulf  of  the  Unknown. 
What  is  generally  called  good  and  bad  drifted  about 
anchorless  on  the  cloudy  surface,  but  below  lay 
dreaming  in  majestic  strength,  the  Natural. 

"  And  those  whom  Nature  favours,"  he  said  aloud 
to  himself,  "she  lets  take  root  in  her  mysterious 
depths,  so  that  they  spring  boldly  into  the  light, 
with  vision  undimmed  and  conscience  untrammelled 
by  the  befogging  illusions  of  morality  and  worldly 
wisdom." 

Such  a  highly  favoured,  completely  endowed  human 
creature  was  this  abused  and  abandoned  woman. 

"And  I  for  whom  she  lived  and  died,  have  I 
deserved  such  a  sacrifice?"  he  meditated  further. 
"  Was  I  worthy  of  the  trust  and  confidence  she  so 
unhesitatingly  placed  in  me  ?  " 

With  ruthless  severity  he  sat  in  judgment  on 
himself,  and  he  came  out  of  the  ordeal  anything  but 
unscathed. 

"  Of  course  I  belong  to  the  other  type,"  he 
thought,  "to  the  people  who  are  torn  all  their  life 
long  between  right  and  wrong,  and  who  lose  their 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     343 

way  in  the  fog.  We  regard  the  tribute  Nature 
demands  of  us  as  impurity  and  vice,  and  yet  the 
restraint  of  moral  laws  often  appears  to  us  hollow 
and  far-fetched.  Thus  we  vacillate  perpetually  be- 
tween defiance  and  fear  of  them.  We  crave  for 
the  good  opinion  of  the  world,  in  which  we  don't 
believe,  and  tremble  in  face  of  its  condemnation, 
which  we  despise  and  contemn  in  our  hearts.  Once 
I  thought  it  would  be  an  indelible  disgrace  to  bury  my 
father  in  this  unconsecrated  ground ;  now  I  should 
be  glad  if  I  had  done  so.  Once  I  tried  to  forget 
my  bitterness  in  the  ambition  of  restoring  my  an- 
cestral inheritance  to  its  pristine  glory;  now  I  am 
delighted  at  the  thought  of  shaking  its  dust  from 
my  feet  Then  I  held  the  Schrandeners  to  be  mere 
barbarous  savages ;  but  to-day  I  awake  to  the  fact 
that  my  own  race  has  made  them  what  they  are.  .  .  . 
Then  I  thought  this  woman  too  degraded  to  take 
bread  from  her  hand ;  to-day  I  am  weeping  by  her 
grave.  All  my  heart  was  centred  on  the  extinguished 
flame  of  youth's  first  foolish  fancy;  I  insisted  on 
making  the  arbitress  of  my  destiny  a  simpering, 
prudish  minx,  for  whom  I  really  had  long  ceased 
to  care  .  .  .  and  I  repulsed  in  horror  the  most 
splendid  and  satisfying  of  natural  loves.  But  truly 
this  natural  love  represented  deadly  sin,  and  tempted 
me  to  contaminate  my  blood. 

"  Yet  when  the  worst  came  to  the  worst,  and  the 
life  that  flowed  in  my  veins  had  burst  from  the  con- 
trol of  all  laws,  human  and  divine,  could  I  not  have 
made  atonement  by  paying  the  penalty  of  death  ?  " 


344     THE   SINS    OF   THE    FATHERS 

And  then  the  question  occurred  to  him,  whether 
the  body  he  talked  so  lightly  of  surrendering  at  his 
own  caprice  belonged  exclusively  to  him  ?  What 
if  it  were  the  Fatherland's  inviolable  possession  ? 
Certainly,  then,  he  was  not  privileged  to  desecrate  it. 

"  It  is  well  that  in  an  hour  of  chaos  like  this, 
when  good  and  evil,  right  and  wrong,  honour  and 
dishonour,  seem  to  be  swaying  about  in  hopeless 
confusion,  and  when  the  old  God  of  our  childhood 
with  His  Heaven  seems  to  have  vanished  away  .  .  . 
it  is  well  for  swooning  men  to  have  one  prop  left  to 
lean  on,  one  firm  rock  to  cling  to,  on  which  even  to 
be  shipwrecked  were  a  delightful  relief.  Such  a 
prop,  such  a  stay,  have  I  in  my  country." 

Thus  spake  the  son  of  his  country's  betrayer,  and 
fervently  folded  his  hands. 

The  moon  had  shifted  its  radiance  away  from  the 
grave,  and  the  dead  face  it  had  illumined  now  lay  in 
shadow.  It  was  scarcely  possible  to  distinguish  it 
from  the  surrounding  earth. 

"  The  time  has  come,"  he  said,  and  looked  round 
him. 

In  the  east  glimmered  the  first  rosy  streak  of 
dawn.  A  bluish  haze  suffused  the  landscape,  and 
above  him  in  the  branches  began  the  dreamy  twitter 
of  awakening  birds.  He  was  in  the  act  of  throwing 
the  flowers  into  the  grave,  when  suddenly  he  changed 
his  mind,  and  with  a  frown  cast  them  aside. 

"  What  need  of  such  fastidious  effeminacy  ?  "  he 
asked  himself  rebukingly.  "  Dust  has  no  reason  to 
fear  meeting  dust." 


THE   SINS   OF  THE    FATHERS     345 

Then  he  seized  the  spade,  and  shutting  his  eyes, 
began  with  zest  to  shovel  the  dark  earth  over  the 
beloved  body.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  the  grave 
was  full.  He  laid  the  turf  carefully  in  its  original 
place,  and  took  care  to  remove  the  remnants  of 
superfluous  soil  and  scattered  flowers,  so  that  when 
the  sun  rose  no  one  could  have  found  the  place 
where  Regina  slept  for  ever. 

As  he  searched  for  a  stone  to  commemorate  the 
sacred  spot,  his  eyes  fell  on  the  head  of  the  ruined 
statue,  which  smiled  at  him  in  stony  vacancy.  He 
lifted  it,  and  planted  it  in  the  turf. 

"Diana,  the  chaste,"  he  murmured,  "shall  serve 
her  as  a  tombstone.  The  sister  by  whom  she  will 
keep  eternal  watch  is  not  unworthy  of  her." 

And  again  he  flung  himself  on  the  grass  and 
became  lost  in  meditation.  On  the  stroke  of  six 
he  rose,  and  made  preparations  to  depart. 

"They  will  be  fools  indeed,"  he  muttered  to 
himself,  "  if  they  don't  make  an  end  of  me  to-day." 

He  filled  his  pistols  with  new  cartridges,  and 
sharpened  his  sabre,  for  he  was  determined  his  life 
should  be  dearly  purchased. 

But  when  he  crossed  the  drawbridge  to  the  village, 
he  was  greeted  by  familiar  and  friendly  faces.  They 
belonged  to  Heide's  sons,  who  were  making  their 
way  to  the  Schranden  depdt.  They  pressed  round 
him  and  offered  him  their  hands. 

"We  are  come,"  said  Karl  Engelbert,  "to  put 
ourselves  under  your  command,  for  we  wish  to  make 
amends  for  our  conduct  to  you  in  the  past." 


346     THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS 

"  I  thank  you  with  my  whole  heart,"  he  replied. 
"  All  is  forgiven  and  forgotten." 

Then  he  walked  up  to  Schranden's  gallant  troopers, 
who,  pale  and  with  chattering  teeth,  cowered  near 
the  church  door,  like  criminals  awaiting  execution. 

His  comrades  pointed  out  to  each  other  in  dismay 
the  blood-stains  on  his  clothes,  but  not  one  dared 
ask  him  to  explain  how  they  came  there. 

"  Bring  out  the  prisoner,  and  get  a  waggon  for 
him,"  he  ordered.  Felix  Merckel  was  led  out,  but 
Boleslav  did  not  deign  to  give  him  a  glance. 

When  farewells  had  been  said,  and  all  was  in 
readiness  for  the  march,  the  old  pastor  made  his 
way  through  the  crowd.  His  face  was  haggard 
and  his  hands  shook. 

He  hastened  to  Boleslav's  side  and  whispered 
in  his  ear:  "I  hear  that  Regina  met  her  death 
last  night.  ...  I  am  willing  to  give  her  Christian 
burial." 

"  Many  thanks,  your  reverence,"  answered  Bole- 
slav, "but  I  have  already  buried  her  with  Pagan 
rites,"  and  he  turned  away. 

A  Schrandener,  who,  to  ingratiate  himself,  had 
probably  spent  part  of  the  night  in  capturing 
Boleslav's  horse,  now  came  forward  holding  it,  with 
a  servile  grin. 

He  swung  into  the  saddle,  and  his  sabre  flew  out 
of  the  scabbard.  His  voice  rang  out  clear  and 
threatening  above  the  beads  of  the  crowd  as  he 
gave  the  word  of  command. 

"  Right,  left.     Quick  march ! " 


THE   SINS   OF  THE   FATHERS     347 

They  left  the  village  behind  them;  the  woods 
loomed  nearer. 

He  did  not  look  back. 

•  ••••• 

Of  the  career  of  Boleslav  von  Schranden  after- 
wards, very  little  is  known.  It  was  considered 
advisable  by  the  military  authorities  to  gazette  him 
again  into  his  old  regiment,  owing  to  the  mutiny 
that  had  taken  place  under  his  command. 

While  the  East  Prussian  Landwehr  remained 
behind  in  the  ancient  provinces,  he  obtained  the 
much-coveted  permission  to  go  direct  to  the  seat 
of  war. 

It  is  supposed  that  he  fell  at  Ligny. 


THE  END 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 

COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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